


Metallover's Self Insert Apocryphal Tales

by metalloverben



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Christmas, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Humor, Parody, Swearing, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalloverben/pseuds/metalloverben
Summary: A collection of the various Self Insert stories and errata that has cropped up during the three years I've been writing the story on FF.net. All moved here for your reading pleasure(?)! Holiday specials, original endings and various other weird stuff. It was just easier to make it all one big story archive.





	1. Alternate Chapter the Thirteenth, or ‘The Time-Warp has been done! Again!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the original Chapter 13, back in early 2016 when I wanted to wrap the story up and move on. Unfortunately, it became much more popular than I had been expecting on FF.net and I ended up returning with an alternate branching version, which is the current main story. This was just kinda... a fluff ending I'd done because I'd just gotten the Cordelia figure and was rather enamored at the time

So, let’s skip the scenes of the repetitive grinding, sobriety and general boredom I was involved in for the last two years, shall we? The most interesting thing that happened was the escalating prank-war with Lissa, so I’ll give you the abridged version.

The first thing I did was write out the plot of Awakening and all the relevant, important information. Support conversation flags, the enemy spawn points I remembered from the harder levels, I wrote down everything. And then locked it in my desk, because I didn’t need everyone thinking I was crazy. Crazier. Whatever.

I then threw myself into my work and training, insisting that Lon’qu work me until my hands bled. I was utter shite at first, because when you have terrible hand-eye-coordination everything is hard, but I got better slowly. When the first draftees showed up for the Ylissean Army training, I started running the drills with them, too. In fact, a lot of the Shepherds did. I did so mostly to help my own fitness levels, but also for unit cohesion. After the first six months we’d built up quite the rapport with the men. After the first year, I was pretty confident they’d follow me into hell if I ordered them to. Plus, the end result was the flat stomach I’d always dreamed of but been too distracted by fast food and cake to achieve!

There were all the weddings and shit, too. I wound up being best man at Chrom’s, and Vaike’s, too, for some weird reason. As for my personal relationships, well… I distanced myself from Cordelia a little, and tried and failed to do the same with Tharja. Panne had eventually returned, too, but acted as if nothing had happened between us, which given my current state I was pretty okay with. Maribelle up and went back to Themis. She came up with some bull-shit excuse, but I knew why. It was simple; I’d been a jackass. Drinking was no excuse for my behavior. She tried to see me a few times before she left, but I gave Elle strict instructions to turn aside anyone except Chrom, Frederick or Lon’qu, so she left without seeing me again. Which was for the best, in the end. In hindsight, I hadn’t shared the same feelings that she had for me, even if they were born out of a desire to increase her social standing. Stringing her along and being too weak to make my actual feelings known had been crueler than she deserved, that was for sure. Apparently she married Stahl about a year later. He invited me to the wedding, but I made sure I was running drills in the forest with the army regiments that week. It would have just been awkward, anyway.

We’d constructed a nice little armada of Ylissean warships in secret, too, on an island to the south of Ylisse. The flagship, a heavy corvette I’d christened _Asuna_ (because apparently I was never going to see how season two ended) and then had to spend a month trying to talk Chrom out of naming baby-Cynthia the same, was a beautiful ship. Or so they assured me; the boats all looked the damn same to me. It was a small fleet, only ten ships, but ten sturdy warships was better than the zero we were supposed to have. And let’s face facts, putting ten ships together in two years given their current technological level was pretty impressive in my mind. Apparently we’d still have to ask Validar for help with troop transports, anyway. Which worked for me, because I really wanted to see the look on his face when I showed up instead of his son.

I really, really wanted to see how that particular plot point played out.

Lucina and Laurent kept busy, too, running whatever errands I could throw at them to fuck with the timeline a little more. They went around, basically assassinating mercenaries and bandits that were bosses later, as well as helping Plegian refugees get over the border so there were less souls to feed Grima when the giant reptilian douche was awakened. So far my efforts were going largely unnoticed, but I wasn’t about to push my luck and tip my hand to Validar this early in the game.

So I’d sent them looking for Emmeryn, she of the Spot-Pass. I had a few other units of woodsmen and scouts doing odd-jobs for me, scouting out the locations that the other time-travelers arrived in and the like, but this one was one that I trusted only Lucina to do. It took them long enough, too.

Eventually, nearly two years to the day since we’d defeated Gangrel, I glanced up from my desk in the army’s barracks outside Ylisstol as the door opened. I’d set myself up there not long after the boys had arrived, citing unit cohesion again, even if I still ate and slept at the Palace with Chrom and the others.

“Welcome back,” I said, perking up instantly.

Two hooded figures and one wearing a pointed mages hat stepped into my office, Lucina drawing the hood off of her long cobalt hair as a stubble-coated Laurent removed his hat. My momentary excitement was pretty much ground out when the third figure removed the hood off of her striking crimson hair, tied up in twintails.

“So I see you didn’t find Emmeryn, huh?” I sighed, deflating in my chair.

Lucina shook her head, sighing as well. Apparently there was only so much screwing with the timeline I could do, in the end. It was disappointing, but I would deal with it. I had still gotten an extra body, plus I was about to get seven more, too. So I could wait.

It would have been interesting, though, getting Emmeryn so early. Especially given that she would be a promoted-level unit, while I’m pretty sure that none of the others were at that stage yet. Plus, ya know, it’d be nice for Chrom and Lissa to have their sister back, I guess. I felt like kind of a douche for thinking about it strictly strategically there for a second.

“Ben, we all watched her die. There was no way she survived that fall.”

“Yet you still went looking,” I pointed out, smirking. “Tell you what. If we don’t find Emmeryn, alive and well, before we deal with Grima, I’ll eat your sword.”

“And if we do?” Lucina asked, eyes narrowing.

“You give me a ten second frencher, tongue and all,” I said with a lecherous wink.

Laurent snorted and looked away, trying to stifle his laughter as Lucina sighed and shook her head, holding one gloved hand to her brow in irritation.

Yeah, just because I’d been busy for two years didn’t mean my personality had changed _that_ much.

“To think I actually looked forward to seeing you again…” she muttered.

The third member of their party, silently looking back and forth between Lucina and Laurent to try and figure out what I was talking about clearly got sick of waiting, scoffed and sunk to a hip as she glared at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I said, standing to introduce myself.

Lucina beat me to the punch, though, throwing out a snide comment that actually made me strangely proud before I could speak again.

“You had manners?” she scoffed, smirking at me.

“Ooh, sick burn Princess,” I chuckled. “Missed you, too.”

“Anyway,” I said, turning to the redhead and holding out my hand. “My name is Ben, I’m the tactician, and until we head to Valm you will be working with these two directly under me.”

“Severa,” she introduced herself, cautiously taking my hand.

“Happy to have you aboard,” I nodded, shaking her hand. “Have you thought of an alias yet? You’ll need one until Lucina blows your cover.”

“I most certainly will not ‘blow our cover’!” the Princess snapped at me.

“Suuuure you won’t,” I said condescendingly. “It’ll happen right before we go to Valm. Want to make another bet about it?”

“Very well,” the Princess said with a cruel smirk. “If I do not blow the cover before we set foot on the boats as you insist we will, you must spend the entire trip across the sea in your smallclothes. If I indeed blow our cover before we embark for Valm I will give you a _twenty_ second ‘frencher’.”

“So it’s win-win for you, huh?” I laughed. “Fine. Deal. Avoid garlic for the next few weeks-”

“Gawds!” Severa exploded, actually stomping her foot. “If you two are just about done flirting I’d like to get on with things! We’ve been travelling for weeks and I need a bath!”

I could already tell she was going to be a headache. Tsunderes were cute in anime and games, not so much in reality. Lucina actually went bright red at this exchange, and Laurent burst out laughing so hard his glasses slipped off his nose.

“Alright, alright ya walking tsundere-trope,” I sighed. “Back on topic. You’ll need an alias. Got any ideas? You know, I don’t care. It’s only for a few more weeks, so in that time your name is Luna. Capeesh?”

“L-Luna?” Severa asked, her brow furrowing.

“It means ‘moon’ in a dead language in my homeland,” I explained. “It’s considered one of the most beautiful words there are back home, so I hope you appreciate it.”

“W-well, yeah, of course someone as beautiful as me deserves a beautiful alias,” Severa said, switching to dere-mode as a slight pinkish tint rose to her cheeks.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, turning back to my chair. “Oh, one more thing. Who’s your dad?”

To my knowledge, Cordelia had done pretty much the same as me in the last two years and thrown herself at rebuilding the Pegasus Knights with Sumia. So she hadn’t gotten close to anyone, meaning I didn’t know who to get her close to.

Severa frowned again, shifting uncomfortably.

“There are anomalies with our memories in that regard,” Laurent reported dryly. “Much the same as our memories of you.”

“Yeah, I’m the wrench in the works alright,” I sighed, pulling the signet ring off my finger and holding it up. “Okay. Go rest up. Lucina, Laurent, get her set up at the inn with you guys. On me. If you want, you can go and use the royal bathhouse, too. Show her the ring and Elle will tee it up. Just be done before evening and bring me back the stupid ring.”

“That won’t be necess-” Lucina started, never finishing her statement.

Severa darted forward, snatching the ring out of my hand and holding it close to her chest with a hungry expression on her face.

“The royal bathhouse!? Seriously!?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, enjoy it while you can,” I chuckled. “Now go. I still have work to do.”

Lucina and Laurent exchanged a glance at their friend’s behavior. Laurent grinned and shrugged, leaving Lucina to sigh.

“Very well,” she conceded. “We will report to you after dinner.”

I grunted in response, already back at my paperwork and shooing them out the door with a wave of my hand. As they left I had to laugh, Lucina lamely muttering to herself as she shut the door.

“We do not… ‘flirt’,” she grumbled.

“Oh, hey Princess!” I called after them.

The trio stopped, looking back at me with varying levels of hostility.

“Just thought you’d want to know, your sister was born last month and now both of you have officially puked on me.”

The look on Lucina’s face promised murder, and I genuinely couldn’t tell if it was red out of embarrassment or pure rage. Probably a little of both. Laurent and Severa both laughed, though, so I took it as a win.

* * *

 

That evening, after ‘Luna’ had been safely set up at the same inn as the other two and my work with the army was done I made the usual return trek to the palace for dinner. Again, as usual, Elle was waiting at the bottom of the stairs patiently for me, her hands clasped neatly in front of her and her posture perfect as she stood in the shade. When she spotted me a small smile rose to her face and she gave a small curtsey as I approached.

“Good evening, milord,” she said. “Dinner is ready. Shall I have it brought to your room?”

“No, I’m getting sick of eating in my room like a hermit. I’ll eat in the upstairs dining room if no one’s using it.”

“Of course, milord,” Elle said. “I’ll make the arrangements. Will Lady Tharja be joining you?”

“Most likely,” I sighed, my head drooping a little as I began to climb the stairs.

By this point I’d given up. Tharja was like a dog that’s gotten a taste for sleeping on the sofa. There is no way in hell you’d ever train her to sleep on the floor again. She had her own job, courtesy of me, to do as much research and make as many nasty area-of-effect spells as she could for the war, but she still hovered around me at every chance. At least when Elle did it she wasn’t being creepy about it, it was her job.

Unfortunately, to cut a long story short, I hadn’t been able to shake Tharja’s attention. In fact, in attempting to do so I’d made her worse…

When I eventually settled into a chair in the small, upstairs dining room Elle already had a plate of food set out for me, and Tharja was already waiting for me. It was late, so no doubt Chrom and Sumia had already eaten and were putting itty-bitty-Lucina-and-Cynthia-babies to bed, so I’d stick my head in and say hello to them once I was finished.

I sighed, looking forlornly at the plate of roasted meat and vegetables in front of me. After two years I was getting well and truly sick of meat and veg. I wanted rice. I wanted sushi! I wanted fucking sashimi for all I cared, I just wanted something different!

“Does something displease you, milord?” Elle asked attentively, hovering by my shoulder.

I didn’t miss the low, territorial growl Tharja gave, either.

“No, just pining for a little variety,” I sighed, beginning to eat.

We continued in silence, me robotically shoveling the same crap I ate every day into my mouth and staring into space, Elle hovering silently and waiting for us to finish, Tharja staring at me with undisguised longing. Or lust. Or… God, I had no idea what was going on in her head. It was just easier not to make eye-contact sometimes.

As I finished I let out a sigh, pushing the half-eaten plate aside and laying my head down on the tabletop. I was fucking beat. It was hard enough sleeping at the best of times for me, and being so exhausted I dropped from training just meant I passed out. I’m sure I’m not the only one in the world that sleeps but doesn’t rest. Across from me I heard the sound of Tharja setting her cutlery down.

“Are you still not sleeping well?” she asked, no doubt frowning in concern.

I muttered an incoherent string of syllables into the tabletop, hoping it sounded like an affirmative. There was a soft, warm sensation on the back of my head as Tharja put a comforting hand on it, rubbing a little.

“Is it the dreams again?” she asked. “Shall I prepare another herbal mixture tonight?”

I sat up, groaning a little and rolling out my shoulders.

“I have a better idea,” I said with a tired grin. “Why don’t you prepare the other herbal mixture? Along with a stamina draught and an aphrodisiac. Benny needs to work out some aggression.”

 “Oh?” Tharja asked, smiling demurely. “Aggression, eh? How much more aggressive could you possibly get?”

And that, right there, was the crux of our relationship. As soon as I’d found out that they did, indeed, have a form of working contraception here, in the guise of some herbal shit a woman could drink to act like birth control pills, I’d decided ‘fuck it’ and… well. Use your imaginations. I’d made sure she knew from the get-go that it was a purely physical, shallow relationship, though. She’d said it was enough for her, though. What can I say? I’m weak. There’s no point in hiding that now. Did it make me feel guilty using her devotion to me like this? Only the first few times. Did I still think I was going to hell? Oh, you bet your ass.

After all, we were all going to die. I just intended to deserve it.

I gave her another promising grin before turning to a heavily-bushing Elle and holding out a piece of paper to her.

“Thundercat, prepare my quarters and get me all the stuff on this list. Within half an hour.”

She nodded woodenly, accepting the paper and looking it over. The uncomfortable look on her face increased, becoming one of shock, too.

“Er… ropes and… a riding crop, milord?” she asked hesitantly. “A-and the… ‘special red candles from Miriel’? D-do I want to know?”

Tharja shuddered expectantly across from me, a look of excitement on her face.

“Half an hour, Thundercat,” I repeated, my grin never dropping.

It had been worth installing those hooks in the ceiling after all, apparently.

* * *

 

Later that evening I stepped back, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand and glancing over my shoulder in annoyance.

Someone was knocking on my door.

It was really bad timing.

We hadn’t gotten to the best part yet, but we were getting close.

I considered ignoring it, but I knew that knock. It was Chrom, and he only ever bugged me at night when it was important.

I sighed, placing the riding crop and low-burning candle I’d had Miriel develop for me down and turned, doing my best to ignore the heavy panting and occasional moan from behind me as I pulled a pair of jeans on and shuffled towards the door.

“Wait right there, I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder to a disappointed moan.

“Aw, don’t be like that. If you’re a good girl and wait quietly, I’ll give you a reward.”

I stopped just inside the door, glancing down at the very-obvious boner in my pants before letting out a frustrated sigh. I bounced up and down a little, purposely lifting my knees as high as I could and wheeling my arms a little to encourage blood flow to route elsewhere. Satisfied once it wasn’t as obvious what we’d been just about to do I opened the heavy wooden door, seeing Chrom standing there and smiling as I expected. I tried to be quick, but apparently he’d caught sight of what, or rather who, was hanging from my ceiling blindfolded before I could close the door, judging from the look of shock and horror on his face when I turned to him again.

“Just when I thought your depravity could no longer surprise me,” he said, somewhat in awe.

“Okay, so clearly I’m busy. What’s up?” I asked, crossing my arms across my bare chest.

“The ships are officially done with their shakedown voyages,” he said, beginning to blush a little. “You, uh, said you wanted to know when they were. So I… I came to tell you.”

I ignored the desperate little moan that escaped from my room.

“Great,” I said, clapping my hands together happily. “That’s fucking perfect! Now, we’ve finished training the mariners, right?”

Chrom blinked, looking up from my door to nod.

“I-er-yes!” he nodded quickly. “But only about half of them have any combat experience. Will they really be okay?”

I nodded, leaning back against the door.

“Of course. The whole point of the training regime Ricken and I devised was to teach soldiers obedience and calmness under fire. As long as their superiors keep a level head they’ll be fine. And half the time we’ll be their superiors on the field. So. We’ll be fine.”

Tharja called my name from inside the room, the sultriness and heat in her voice sending a shiver up my spine, but I hid it and continued to grin at Chrom. This was clearly making him really, really uncomfortable, and that was fucking hilarious.

“And the Captains are all happy with the ships?” I continued as if nothing was amiss.

“Er, some small changes that Ricken can handle facilitating and… uh…” Chrom fidgeted, before it clearly became too much for him. “What in Naga’s name are you two doing in there?”

“Nothing much,” I shrugged, grinning madly. “Curious?”

“More like concerned for both of your welfare,” Chrom said, shaking his head a little.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little hard-play between two consenting adults,” I laughed. “If you’d like I can give you some tips? Maybe help you and the missus make a third heir?”

“I can…” Chrom started angrily before trailing off.

He glanced at the door again, chewing his lip indecisively and clearly imagining his wife in a similar position before finally sighing and shaking his head.

“Oh well, your loss,” I shrugged. “Are we done? I’m actually kind of curious as to why you came to give me this information yourself.”

“We have not spent much time together since the victory party,” Chrom explained. “I thought… uh… well, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything…”

I laughed, shaking my head this time.

“Relax,” I told him. “We’ll all get to spend plenty of time together again real soon.”

“Ah, yes,” Chrom nodded, grinning. “When ‘Valm invades Port Ferox’.”

“Hey, don’t say it like I’m crazy,” I frowned. “And I still expect you to make good on my castle when I’m right.”

“Right, well, I’ll take your word for it and let you… get back to it,” Chrom said, nodding. “I didn’t mean to… uh… keep you.”

I chuckled, grinning again.

“Don’t worry. Sometimes the waiting can be better than the actual deed itself,” I told him.

“Oh gods, Ben…” Chrom groaned, holding a hand to his brow. “Forget it… It’s too late for this kind of… Good night. Don’t hurt yourselves.”

“I make no promises!” I declared after him.

I watched Chrom leave before rolling out my neck and grinning again as I stepped back into the dimly lit room.

“Now. Somebody didn’t stay quiet like I asked,” I said, a mock disappointed tone in my voice. “I guess that means I have to punish you now.”

The look of pure anticipation and excitement on Tharja’s face as she craned to try and see over her shoulder, despite the blindfold, alone was enough to get me back to half-mast in an instant. It had been a long week, I thought to myself as I picked the riding crop back up. It was time to work out that frustration. In a totally healthy manner.

We had to enjoy ourselves while we could, after all. Once Valm invaded and we hit the road again we wouldn’t be able to do stuff like this.

* * *

 

A few weeks later Cherche showed up, warning us that Valm invaded just like I predicted they would, and I scored myself a castle. It was more like a fort, really, but Chrom had made good on his word. Lucina had seemed a little pale when my prediction came true, clearly recalling the other ones I’d made.

Rather than go to Port Ferox personally, though, I’d used it as a chance to field-test my new and improved Ylissean army. The results had been better than perfect. Next to zero losses, no collateral damage to the town, and the Valmese routed in less than a day. _And_ the commander had captured a number of Valmese warships we’d offered to Basilio. So while my boys were busy repairing the damage to the town that the Valmese had caused and preparing a staging area for us just outside of it the Shepherds had gone to Plegia to talk to King Validar and get his ships.

Which was where I was now, wearing a dark blue-almost black coat over my regular black vest. I had the hood drawn up as we walked through the fort on Carrion Isle, my head low. I wanted to see the surprise on that mother-fucker’s face when it turned out I wasn’t Robin.

I was waiting patiently, grinning under my hood while Chrom and Frederick did the whole spiel with Validar and Aversa. She kept shooting me funny looks; I guess the beard was throwing her off, considering it was the only part of my face visible right now. I glanced up a little when Frederick’s grumpy tone cut through my thoughts, filling me with anticipation.

“Good hierophant, I would ask you to lower your cowl. In Ylisse, it is a courtesy expected of one in the presence of royalty.”

“You are a long way from Ylisse, sir,” the Hierophant said. “But very well…”

He drew his hood back, grinning expectantly. Yup, older default version of Robin, grinning like a bastard along with Validar and Aversa. Their grins diminished a little, though, when none of the Ylisseans present reacted.

“I suppose I should do the same then, too, shouldn’t I?” I suggested, stepping forward and drawing back my own hood. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, good Hierophant.”

It took all of my willpower to maintain a straight face. I was subtly digging my nails into my palm to not laugh, and I think that’s the only thing that saved me. Validar looked lost for a moment, before he frowned. Aversa’s brows just shot up before she started looking between me and the Hierophant. His reaction was the best, though. Complete and utter shock.

“Who are you!?” he practically shouted.

“Ylissean Lord of Tactics,” I said, offering him my hand with a cheery smile. “Name’s Ben! I look forward to our two countries coming together as one against this Valmese menace!”

He looked at my hand for a moment before glancing back at a similarly confused-seeming Validar.

“So… you are the Ylissean tactician?” the Hierophant asked, slowly taking my hand.

“Yup!” I said, still smiling as I energetically pumped our hands up and down. “And I gotta say, the last King really made my life difficult! I’m hoping you guys are a little more reasonable!”

“Ben, mind your manners,” Chrom instructed, a grin of his own appearing.

“Sorry, sorry,” I laughed, stepping back. “It’s just that I’m so excited to finally meet our allies. But we’d best be on our way, right? Lot’s to do, a world to save and all that jazz, right?”

Chrom nodded his agreement, and we excused ourselves from the confused Plegians. As we left I gave Aversa one last grin and a wink, and she seemed utterly lost at how to take it.

I guess I have a thing for the dark and mysterious magey type.

* * *

 

The rest of the day proceeded exactly the way it was scripted to, minus Validar appearing before me and trying to hypnotize me or whatever he does to Robin. The Risen had arrived, we recruited Henry, and now I was sitting on a rock watching Lucina reveal her true identity to Chrom while Sumia shredded some poor flowers a few feet away from me.

When they started hugging Sumia let out an anguished groan and I rolled my eyes as her flower-murder increased in speed to a fevered pitch.

She stopped suddenly, turning to me with a determined look on her features.

“Oh this won’t end well…” I muttered as she stomped over.

“I need you to make me a better… a better…” she started, blushing heavily and trailing off.

“Oh god, Sumia,” I sighed. “Out with it already.”

“I need you to make me a better lover!” she declared, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I-I don’t want to lose Chrom, and you seem to know a lot about s… s…”

“Sex?”

Her blush deepened as she nodded quickly.

“No,” I said. “Anything I have to teach, I teach by example, and you’re totally persona non-nookified to me. It’d be like fucking Chrom. So no. I can give you pointers?”

She nodded, her blush increasing still.

“Take the lead,” I offered, looking at where Chrom and Lucina were wrapping their little conversation up now. “Every man likes to be dominated every now and then. Also, try to be more adventurous. Take it up the butt, do it outdoors, have a three-way with one of your maids. Something Chrom would never expect.”

I looked back at where Sumia was swaying, her face bright red now. Clearly this was all a little too much for the dainty little flower.

“Or, try wearing some sexy underwear to start with,” I sighed. “I’m sure that’ll excite Chrom, too.”

Deciding to wrap this up I called out to the two blue-haired royals in the distance. Any more and I think Sumia might get a nose-bleed and pass out. She went right back to her flowers when I stepped away, tearing at them like a freaking wood-chipper in human form.

“Yo, Chrom!” I shouted. “Get yer ass over her! You too, Princess! We gots shit to talk about!”

They both turned, Chrom wilting a little when he spotted Sumia and Lucina taking on a familiar scowl at my tone.

“Er… Ben,” Chrom said as they approached. “What is-”

Lucina beat him to the punch, slugging me in the shoulder.

“Why would you kill the moment like that!?” she practically snarled at me.

I shrugged, rubbing my arm as I indicated the rapidly-breaking-down Sumia just behind me.

“He loves me… he loves me not… he loves me… he loves me not…”

“I think that may need a little fixing before she starts treating people like those flowers,” I suggested. “And don’t hit me again. You know it gets me off, and I don’t need to pitch a pant-tent in front of Chrom. Again.”

“By Naga I swear I will kill you one day,” Lucina growled, turning from me.

Chrom looked a little lost at our exchange, but I shrugged again and gave him my winning smile as I indicated towards his wife.

“Er… Sumia? Dear?” he started tentatively.

The conversation basically went the way it was scripted to after that, there were some lovely family moments afterwards which I felt a little weird for intruding on, and by the time we ended up walking back to the camp the sun had completely risen. Chrom hung back a little as Sumia and Lucina walked side by side, talking and getting to know each other as if they had never been apart.

“So,” Chrom began, facing straight ahead. “I had a thought. This means that Lucina has been working with you for the last two years. Did you know who she was? Even back then?”

“Yeah, of course,” I scoffed. “Genius, remember?”

Chrom nodded, before turning and punching me in the face. Clearly daddy had been paying attention to the way I had been treating Marth…

“That’s my daughter, you son of a bitch!” he thundered.

Sumia and Lucina both looked back with shocked expressions, but Lucina’s quickly turned to one of satisfaction. Like, euphoric satisfaction. Like, watching her dad stand over me, clearly restraining himself from kicking the shit out of me, was totally getting her off.

“Ow, hey, dude!” I shouted, jumping back to my feet. “It was all in good fun!”

Chrom laid me flat again. I decided to stay down this time. He had fists like hams.

“Would it help if I promised to behave around this timeline’s Lucina?” I asked woozily from the ground.

“You are damn straight you will!” Chrom thundered, turning and stomping off.

Leaving me, dancing back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness, to think to myself ‘god damn that man has a solid right hook’.

* * *

 

“Relax, he’ll come around,” Lissa chuckled. “He really does care about you, so I don’t think he’ll kick you out. Plus, you are really important now.”

I groaned as she held her healing staff to my face. Turns out Chrom had broken my jaw. I kinda deserved it, being a douche to Lucina for the last two years, but it still hurt.

“Fucker punches like a freight-train,” I slurred.

“Yeah, well, I’ve only been around for a few weeks, but if that’s how you’ve been treating her for the last two years I’d want to hit you, too,” Severa huffed.

“I don’t hear Laurent complaining!” I said defensively.

“Laurent barely speaks!” Severa snapped.

I sighed. I was in the mostly-deserted mess tent now, Lissa giggling as she healed my broken jaw and Severa sitting on one of the tables, watching. Laurent had been there reading until moments ago when Vaike had shown up and dragged him off. Clearly word of who ‘Isaac’ actually was had gotten out.

“Fine, whatever, I’m a dick,” I sighed.

I moved my jaw a little, testing it as Lissa stepped back. It still hurt, but lingering pain was always a side-effect of healing magic, so I assumed it was fine.

“Thank you, Lissa,” I said. “Why don’t you go and get to know your niece?”

A big smile broke out on her face as she nodded and ran out of the tent, clearly eager to get to know the real Lucina now. Leaving me all alone with Severa.

“I suppose we’d best go around and pick up all the rest of your little friends, huh?” I sighed, sagging in my seat.

It had been a long night, and now I was feeling it. I mean, sure, all the training had vastly improved my stamina and reduced my asthma to basically naught, but I still got sleepy.

I glanced up when Severa didn’t answer. She was looking down, a stormy expression on her face.

“Your mother is on guard-duty,” I sighed again. “Otherwise she’d be over her hugging the shit out of you. Don’t get all mopey on me now, Red.”

“Shut up! What would you know!?” she shouted.

I quirked a brow at her, and she let out a breath.

“… I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“And I’m going to go and relieve your mother,” I said, standing. “So sit right here so she knows where to find you.”

“Wait, what?” Severa asked, looking up at me in confusion.

“I meant what I said,” I shrugged. “Let her hug the life out of someone else for a change.”

“W-wait!” Severa said as I went to leave.

I turned, quirking a brow again as she stared at me. There was a brief moment of silence as she looked intently at my face before shaking her head.

“Forget it,” she muttered. “I almost had something there but… don’t remember.”

“Don’t force it,” I said lazily. “You’ll just hurt yourself. Now, if I were you, I’d be looking for a chestplate to wear, because your mom won’t take hers off before the hugging starts, believe me.”

* * *

 

A few hours later I yawned as I stared out over the Plegian countryside. Chrom had decided, in all his princely authority, that we were going to move out sometime this afternoon so that people could get some rest after the previous evening’s fight. Of course, true to my word, I’d relieved Cordelia, who had rushed off to meet her future daughter. Unfortunately, though, she had only just started her shift on guard duty. And mine had followed right after.

“God I’m tired,” I muttered to myself, dragging my feet as I patrolled the camp.

I was attempting to plan for the next stage of things; it would take time to move the ships to Port Ferox, and I was bringing a fuck-off-huge army with me to Valm, so they’d need time to prepare for that, too. Meaning we were free to go ahead and recruit all the others on this continent.

Hell, I’d already had my boys scout out the locations. I knew where they were going to be. Now we just had to be there. I’d take a small group and go along the north, collecting Morgan, Kjelle, Nah and Noire. I’d leave the rest to Chrom. Yarne and Cynthia were in the south somewhere; if he went by horseback he could probably be back in about a month.

“Hey, Ben,” Donnel said, coming out of the mess tent. “Frederick says fer me ta replace ya on guard duty. Why don’tcha go an get some shut-eye?”

“That is the best dang idea I’ve heard all mornin’,” I said, copying his accent.

I beat feet, hoping to avoid getting punched a third time that morning for pissing someone off, and beelined for my tent. As nice as this coat was, it was heavy and I needed sleep. And god help Tharja if she was waiting for me. I’d see to it she didn’t walk right for a week this time… With my cock, of course. It was times like these I really started to miss Elle, though. Just the thought that there wouldn’t be breakfast or even anything to drink waiting for me was oddly depressing. The damn maid had spoiled me now.

I stepped into my tent, shrugging off my coat with a relieved sigh. I gave another, disappointed sigh when I realized that Tharja wasn’t in fact waiting for me, and tossed the coat over my chair. I had to do a double-take, though, when I spotted the bowl of oats on my desk.

“I had thought you would be hungry.”

“Kyaaa!” I squeaked, spinning.

Seeing Lucina standing there, eyebrow quirked, made me rethink my girlish scream.

“I mean, ‘argh!’ I mean… fuck it. Thanks for breakfast. What do you want?”

Lucina looked down, not meeting my gaze.

“Ah,” I said, grinning knowingly.

“’Ah’, what?” she snapped.

“I know why you’re here,” I chuckled, my grin growing.

“Y-you do?” she asked.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say I was right.”

“What!? About what?”

I chuckled again at the obstinate princess, shaking my head.

“Say I was right about you giving your identities away,” I explained.

Lucina flinched, looking away from me again.

“Aw, it’s not that hard,” I laughed. “Here, I’ll even help you out! Just repeat after me: ‘Ben, you were right. You are always right. I should just accept the fact that you are always right’. Now you try it.”

“You are making this harder than it needs to be,” Lucina growled, her face beginning to go red.

“Well, just say it and-”

She crossed the space in the blink of an eye and reached up before I could react, yanking my face down to hers and reminding me that there had, indeed, been something mentioned jokingly about a twenty-second frencher. It also made me wonder, as Lucina’s tongue invaded my mouth with all the subtlety of a charging horse, where she had learned to kiss? Or even learned what a ‘frencher’ was, for that matter.

As far as kissing went, though, she wasn’t that good. Probably a lack of experience. So, deciding to make the most of the ten or so seconds I had remaining of this I took the lead, massaging her tongue with my own. She let out a muffled sound of surprise that faded into a soft moan as I pushed deeper, holding her up as she swayed a little, still never opening her eyes as-

“Lucina, are you in here? Why did you want to meet in- OH YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

I jumped back from Lucina, just in time to see Chrom’s big meaty fist flying straight at my face. My nose broke and I fell flat on my ass, stars dancing around my vision as Lucina tried to calm her father down.

Sheesh, her father for less than a day and already beating the shit out of the boys. I felt bad for all the young male suitors of Ylisse.

“Keep your hands off my daughter!” Chrom roared, spinning and finally stomping out of the tent.

I groaned, falling backwards to lay on the floor. Lucina stood there for a moment before chuckling and leaning over me.

“That was a little longer than twenty seconds,” she said with a grin.

“You bitch, you planned this,” I gurgled. “And you know what? I respect that. Now go find your aunt and tell her that her brother needs anger management classes. And help me set my nose. I don’t need to look like I got hit in the face with a shovel for the rest of my life; I’m already ugly enough.”

* * *

 

With a weak groan I fell onto my back, resting against the cool rocks of the mountain path we were on. Just over the next rise was our destination, the castle in the mountains. There was only one more person to recruit now, and that was Robin’s daughter Morgan. Judging from the fact he still existed in this world I was assuming Morgan was still his daughter, anyway.

The others all took their cues, falling from their feet just like I had. Remember, at this point I’d been cardio and stamina training with my regiments for nearly two years. So if I was exhausted, I’m surprised the others could still move. Especially Noire; poor kid was like a sack of bones. The European ancestry in me urged me to feed her. I would make her healthy.

I had set out from Port Ferox with Lucina, Severa, Lon’qu and Tharja. We’d already picked up Nah, Noire and Kjelle, rounding our group out to eight, including me.

After a few minutes my pulse had slowed, and my breathing was back under control. With a groan I pulled myself back to my feet.

“Alright, break for lunch,” I ordered. “None of you can fight in this condition, anyway.”

“I could still kick your butt!” Kjelle groaned, sitting up.

“Yeah, yeah, tone it down GI Jane. Eat some lunch first.”

I ended up plonking down next to Severa, who passed me the food bag. Hard cheese, hard bread and cured meat was our meal. I was so. Damn. Sick. Of European style food. I may have been spoiled for choice back home, though… With a sigh I passed the bag off to Nah, who looked forlornly at it.

“Here,” I sighed, handing her my share of bread and cheese. “I’m not that hungry.”

 The young manakete’s face lit up with a broad smile as she took her own share and my offerings, passing the bag along to Noire. I remembered that, canonically, she was always hungry and in the future she’d never gotten enough to eat. I’d had a few months like that myself a few years before I’d found my way to Ylisse, but the thought of having to do it my whole life made me want to feed the kid. And hug her. Poor thing…

“Well, that was almost nice,” Severa pointed out with a smirk. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you have a soul under all that hair.”

“Har. Har.” I muttered.

“It was very nice!” Nah said around a mouthful of bread. “Thank you very much, Mister Ben!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, kid, you’ll choke,” I warned, taking a big bite of my jerky.

Severa huffed, pouting and looking away.

With another sigh I held out my half-eaten jerky to her.

“Here, fuck,” I groaned. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Ew! Gods, no, keep that away from me! That’s been in your mouth!”

“So?” I laughed. “So has L-”

Before I could finish telling her ‘so has Lucina’ I felt a chill run down my spine. The Princess was glaring at me, tapping her fingers against Falchion’s pommel as she slowly, deliberately chewed her lunch.

“Er… never mind,” I mumbled, taking another bite of my jerky.

It was not worth losing my life over a crappy joke.

Severa huffed again, finishing her meal in silence. I couldn’t help but wonder as we ate at what her deal was lately. She was acting all clingy, in a super tsundere way, and it was getting on my nerves.

* * *

 

“Big place,” I breathed as we walked into the castle’s interior.

Lucina and Severa flanked me as we stepped into the area that would be our battleground. The water and bridges were a dead giveaway. So were the Risen. The usual horde shambled around in front of us, nothing anyone here wasn’t used to. They caught sight of us and began to shuffle towards our little group. 

“You are certain Morgan will be here?” Lucina asked curiously.

“You know I’m never wrong,” I said, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. “Wanna make another bet?”

“I will stab you,” Lucina warned, turning away from me.

Well, it was less of a warning and more of a statement, but the effect was the same. My attention shifted from pissing off Lucina without her father around to beat my sorry ass when Severa let out a strange groan, holding her head and swaying a little.

“Hey, whoa,” I said, reaching out to steady her. “You okay? Red, talk to me.”

“I-I’m fine,” she said, shaking me off.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“Just a headspin,” Severa assured me. “It was nothing. I can still fight.”

“Sure, from the back,” I said. “Swap with Lon’qu and don’t push your-”

“No!” Severa shouted suddenly. “I won’t! You aren’t going to leave me behind again! You always leave me behind!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked.

Before she could answer Lucina gave a warning shout. Apparently Severa’s shouting had gotten the Risen horde’s attention and they were rushing us. I grabbed Severa by the collar, hauling her shocked face closer to my own.

“You leave my side and I’ll kill you myself,” I warned her before I released her. “Let’s go.”

We breezed through the Risen pretty easily, if I do say so myself. With Lucina and Severa’s swords on both sides and my own trench knives in the center we made an unpassable line that the Risen broke against, leaving the others to bring up the rear. Once we reached the fork in the bridges we stopped.

“Lucina, take everyone and make for the end of the chamber,” I instructed. “Kill the Chieftain. Severa and I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Severa exclaimed angrily. “I said I was fine! I don’t need to-”

Whatever excuse she was going to give was cut off by a small explosion, followed by two more as magic fire spells erupted among the Risen at our three-o’clock.

“That’s where we’re going,” I said, pointing. “Lucina, don’t fuck up. C’mon, Red. We got a tactician to save.”

I didn’t wait to see if the others followed my orders; Lucina was an experienced commander, far more so than I ever would be. I trusted her to take the Chieftain down while Severa and I rescued Morgan. The redhead followed me as I marched towards the eastern end of the chamber, where the lone figure in a black coat was still throwing spells around and hacking at whatever got too close with a sword. She had her hood up, too, which meant I couldn’t tell who her mother was from her hair color, but we’d know soon enough.

With a roar I started to run, Severa hurrying to keep pace as we tore through the Risen crowding the young tactician. I was starting to think that we were a little over-leveled thanks to the training regime for the army guys, given how easy all of this was these days, but it wasn’t exactly something to complain about. In less than ten minutes Severa and I were standing with Morgan, who was currently hunched over and holding herself up on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Severa and I were hardly even breathing hard.

“Whoo! Fuck yeah, that was awesome!” Morgan declared, straightening.

She stopped when she saw me, a grin rising to her face.

“Sup, Dad,” she said nonchalantly. “What’re you doing here?”

I quirked an eyebrow, stepping forward. It felt like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on my head. Like I was about to have an asthma attack again. Hell, I’ll say it straight; being called ‘dad’ terrified the crap out of me.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Er… oh! Shit! I said the f-word! I’m so sorry!” Morgan said quickly, wilting.

She studied me for a moment before cocking her head.

“Sheesh, you look good, Dad. The air here must agree with you or something. You look ten years younger!”

“Don’t care, back the fuck up,” I said, my heart beating out of control. “Specifically to this whole ‘dad’ thing.”

“What the hell’re you talking about?” she laughed. “Why’re you looking at me like that? Hello? It's me! Morgan! Your daughter? Love of your life and Daddy's little girl and all that jazz? Wow, you're really acting out of it today. Maybe you should go home and lie down or something. Uh, but which way is home? Is it— Ngh! M-my head!”

“God-fucking-dammit, focus!” I shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders.

Her hood fell away in my grip, revealing a head of crimson red hair. She looked up at me with steel-blue eyes, just like the ones I saw in the mirror every day.

“D-dad, what-”

“Okay, hold up a sec…” I said, releasing her and stepping back.

My head was spinning, but I forced it down, looking up at Severa to see how she was reacting to this. Morgan followed my gaze, and her face lit up in a smile again.

“Heya, sis! What’s crackin’?”

Both mine and Severa’s jaws dropped as we spun to goggle at the girl.

“What?” Morgan asked, shrinking back a little.

Severa turned to me, eyes wide.

“I-I… you… we…” she stammered before swallowing and taking a deep breath. “I remember now.”

“Oh fuck…” I groaned.

“Dad…” Severa said, taking a step forward.

“No…” I groaned.

“Daddy!” Severa cried as she threw herself at me.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck!” I shouted above her head.

* * *

 

That evening we decided to camp in the foyer of the abandoned castle. It didn’t appear like there would be any more Risen reinforcements, but Lon’qu had insisted on posting guards to be safe, and I agreed.

I was sitting on a rock a small distance from the castle, two red-haired girls sitting in front of me.

Apparently, these two were my daughters.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Let’s get this straight. You’re my daughter.”

“Yup,” Morgan chirped happily.

“And you’re my daughter.”

“Well, duh,” Severa huffed. “I’ve only said as much ten times so far.”

I groaned and ran a hand over the top of my head.

This. Was. Bullshit.

I didn’t want to get married. I never wanted to get married! I’d never wanted kids!

“And just to check,” I sighed. “Cordelia and I were married?”

“Happily,” Morgan nodded.

I groaned again, resting my head in my hands.

“Well excuse us for living!” Severa suddenly shouted. “All of the others were so happy to see their kids! Even mother was ecstatic, crying and hugging me and everything! But you-”

“Stop,” I said, holding up a forestalling hand. “This is a big, big deal to me. At this point in time, I’ve never even entertained the thought of having children, let alone being in another committed relationship. It’s… a lot for me to handle right now. I need a moment.”

“Take your time, we can wait,” Morgan said, leaning back.

I shook my head, slapping my cheeks a few times for good measure. If they said they were my daughters, well then…

“Fuck it,” I declared after a moment, standing. “I can sit around dwelling on it, but it’s not gonna change anything. So, fuck it. Come here, give dad a hug.”

“Yay!” Morgan cried, jumping up and into my arms.

“Sorry if I was an ass-hole earlier,” I said.

Morgan snuggled into my chest, like a big, warm cat. It was a conflicting feeling. I mean, I knew I wasn’t old enough to have a kid her age, but something about it felt… pretty good. The European parental instincts were being awakened within me. After a moment Morgan stepped back, grinning up at me. I smiled back, ruffling her hair, before turning my attention on my supposed oldest daughter.

“Don’t touch me,” Severa said half-heartedly.

“Or you’ll what?” I asked.

“Seriously,” Severa warned, taking a step back.

“Either you hug me, or I hug you,” I warned, holding up my arms. “We can do it the easy way or the hard way, but this is only gonna end one way.”

“No!” Severa insisted. “You were a real jerk before! I… I…”

With a sniffle she gave in, practically jumping at me again. Only this time I was mentally prepared to deal with it. Severa shuddered a little, giving a weak sob.

“Okay,” I said, rubbing her back. “Okay, c’mon, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” she said in a thick voice. “You died! You and mother both… both died and left us alone!”

“I don’t remember that,” Morgan piped up.

“You don’t remember anything,” I reminded her.

She shrugged, grinning impishly.

“And as for dying,” I continued. “We’re all going to die eventually. But, I assure you, I’m working to ensure it doesn’t happen to any of us for a long, long-ass time yet. So relax.”

Severa nodded, gripping the front of my vest even tighter.

“You’d better not,” she said, stepping away from me. “Or I’ll kick your butt.”

“Yay, sis is back to normal!” Morgan laughed, throwing herself at Severa and wrapping her sister in a big bear hug.

I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that I had apparently had a hand in raising these two. I mean, with Morgan it was pretty obvious, but…

“Oh gods, I can’t believe I forgot you were a hugger,” Severa groaned as she tried to pry Morgan off of her. “This is it. This is going to be my life now, isn’t it?”

“This is going to be our lives now,” I corrected her.

“What about mom?” Morgan asked innocently.

The smile fell right off my face.

“Oh fuck-balls,” I groaned.

What about mom, indeed?

How the hell was I going to explain this one?


	2. Alternate Part the Fourteenth, or ‘One More Time, With Feeling!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original conclusion I'd written for Metallover's Self Insert Adventure, back when I was planning to drop the story and go 'respectable'. We all know how that went... Originally uploaded to FF.net on the 1st of April 2016.

“Okay,” I said, beginning to hyperventilate. “Okay. Okay-okay-okay-okay-okay…”

I looked up at the two girls, my daughters, in standing in front of me.

“Okay,” I said again.

Severa sighed and slapped me across the face. Hard. Beside her Morgan actually gasped and recoiled, but it had been what I’d needed.

“Better?” she asked.

“A little. But if you hit me again I swear to fuck I’ll put you over my knee. You’re not too old. I’ll do it.”

Severa scoffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and sinking to a hip as Morgan looked back and forth between us.

I had just had an anxiety attack at the thought of talking to Cordelia about… stuff.

Like the fact she and I would eventually be, allegedly, happily married.

Or that we had two time-travelling daughters together.

“Alright then,” I said, slapping my hands on my thighs and standing. “Nothing’s going to be accomplished sitting here and brooding. Right? Right. Let’s go and get some food.”

“Jeez you change gears fast,” Severa said, shaking her head a little.

“I’m compartmentalizing,” I admitted. “I can freak out later. Preferably somewhere where I’m not going to lose face in front of my kids.”

Severa turned to me, arching one brow with an ‘oh really?’ look on her face. Morgan just grinned up at me. God the kid was adorable…

“I’ve spent the last few weeks watching you almost constantly sexually harass my best friend and act like a child,” Severa deadpanned. “Not to mention the fact that, yes, more than once I’ve noticed you sneak off with Tharja for Naga only knows what. So I don’t really think my opinion of you can get much lower at this point.”

“It’s called a quickie, and thanks for the confidence boost,” I groaned.

“What’s a quickie?” Morgan piped up innocently.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” I promised.

“I’m already eighteen! I think…” she insisted.

“Okay, I’ll tell you when _I’m_ older,” I groaned.

Having kids was going to be hard. I’d also probably need to be a little more careful about my language; it was pretty clear to see Morgan had already picked up on the swears, I didn’t need to warp her further.

Severa leaned over to her sister, whispering something in her ear. I winced as Morgan’s eyes widened and she nodded, making an “ohhhhh” of understanding.

“So that’s what a quickie is…” she said with a nod, resting her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that, Dad. I’m sure mom’ll still love you anyway.”

I sighed, resting my face in my hands as Severa grinned maliciously over Morgan’s head at me.

Didn’t take a genius to spot a premature ejaculation joke when it was that obvious.

Being a parent to two adults I had clearly already warped was going to be hard.

* * *

 

A few days later we were back in civilization, only another few days from Port Ferox now. I was debating whether or not to simply hire a wagon to take us back as we tromped back into whatever logging town we had passed through on the way east, not because I was tired but more for expedience’s sake. I was getting sick of dwelling on having ‘the talk’ with Cordelia.

It was late in the afternoon, still with a few hours of light left, but if I remembered correctly we wouldn’t hit another town before it got too dark to travel safely and it was a new moon that night, so it’d be too dark. With a sigh I turned, waiting for the others to catch up.

“Alright, we’ll break here for the night,” I called. “Pick an inn, meet back here in the morning. Dismissed. Peace out.”

There were more than a few relieved sighs at my dismissive instructions, making me think I clearly wasn’t the only one excited at the prospect of not sleeping in the forest like a fucking animal again that night.

Ever since Panne’s training roughing it in the woods gave me weird boners…

It was a decent sized town; a number of inns and taverns near the gates, the lumber mill in the distance occupying the majority of the horizon. There was a bustling market, too, and a number of actual stores instead of the street vendors I’d expected from Regna Ferox during my first time. It was a good place to have a break before we got back to all the doom-and-gloom of Port Ferox and the Ylissean military life.

I went to turn, planning on scoping out the inns near the town gates, but something caught my arm. I glanced over my shoulder, Morgan clinging to my arm and grinning up at me. Behind her Severa looked expectantly at me, frowning as she was so wont to do.

I had a pretty good idea where this was going…

“Let me guess,” I started, quirking a brow at Severa. “You guys want to rent a family suite?”

Severa barely twitched, quirking her brow right back at me. Morgan’s reaction, however, was far more animated.

“Fu- er, heck yes we do!” she cheered, stopping herself short of cussing again.

She was a smart kid, but had clearly inherited my foul mouth. It was cute, though, watching her cover her swearing and bite her tongue, trying not to slip, the same way I had around my father.

“Your treat, of course,” Severa added.

“Yeah, yeah,” I sighed, ruffling Morgan’s hair.

She closed her eyes and smiled, disengaging from my arm and grinning up at me when I stopped.

That damn kid… so moé…

I chose an inn pretty much at random and we rented a suite with two beds. It was actually a lot nicer than I’d been expecting from Regna Ferox, not to mention reasonably priced. I guessed they would have gotten a lot of travelling merchants and important tradesmen and shit, being such a major milling town. Nice beds, clean and soft linens, and a barrel of fresh water in the corner with some large buckets for bathing or whatever else we needed them for. I was already planning on using one of them as a makeshift helmet when I built my pillow-fort, anyway…

I sat down on the far bed, letting out a tired sigh as I dropped my pack at my feet. Morgan let out a little cheer as she discarded her own pack and sword, jumping and body-slamming the bed with a happy laugh. Severa did pretty much what I had, shooting a little annoyed glance at Morgan but remaining silent. I guess the girls would share a bed.

Over the last few days we’d fallen into something of a routine; we walked together, ate together, slept close to each other and basically just spent all of our time together. For me, it was taking some getting used to; I was an introvert at the best of times, after all. But I was the only person Morgan remembered properly, and Severa clearly wanted to bond a little with her parents, even if she’d never admit it. So I quelled my own selfish feelings and put up with their attention. At least until we got back to Port Ferox and I could offload them on their mother, anyway. It was nice, though, that I’d had a good relationship with my parents as an adult. A lot of my friends had gone to great lengths to distance themselves from their parents back home, but I’d managed to become friends with my own once I’d hit twenty-one. And stopped acting like a total doucher. So at least I had some idea of what to work with. Morgan was easy; she was a blank slate and apparently I could do her no wrong. Severa, though, I’d just decided to be myself with. If she didn’t like me, whatever. I was still (allegedly) her father. She didn’t have to like me. But, I was optimistic. It was hard to tell with little-miss-tsundere-pants, but I think she was warming to me.

“Ah, I’m so sick of walking everywhere,” Morgan groaned, rolling onto her back.

“Get used to it,” I sighed, leaning back and letting myself fall onto my bed. “God I miss my car. Why don’t you two get cleaned up and we’ll go grab an early dinner? Yes, Severa, my treat.”

“Yay!” Morgan cried.

Severa scoffed, chuckling a little.

I stared up at the ceiling, letting my mind wander as the two girls went about preparing themselves for dinner. Me? I was male, so I could get away with stinking and looking like shit. I know, I know, unfair double standards and all that shit. But, that was the world we (apparently still) lived in. Hopefully we could beat the shift-workers to one of the taverns and grab a feed before I had to start busting skulls for hitting on my kids. I ran a hand over my fuzzy jaw, considering shaving anyway just for shits and giggles, but my plans were derailed when Severa let out a small shout of disbelief.

“Morgan, what the hell are you doing!?”

“What?” my youngest asked innocently. “I stink.”

I glanced up, immediately regretting my decision and throwing my head back down.

Morgan had disrobed and was cleaning herself with a rag and water from the barrel in the corner. Severa had obviously only just turned and noticed, goggling disbelievingly at her sister with a hairbrush hanging off of one crimson twintail. All of this I had taken in in an instant, my own eyes wide as I tried to wrap my head around what was happening.

At… at least Morgan was comfortable around me?

And amazingly this was the first time I’d seen a pair of tits and felt nothing. She was clearly if not my daughter then some other blood relation of mine. Unfortunately for her, though, it appeared she’d inherited her mother’s bust. I still thought she was cute as a button, though, if a little air-headed at times-

I gave a muffled grunt as a red-faced Severa jumped up on my bed and smothered my face with a pillow. Great. The last thoughts I were going to have in my life were mild surprise that I wasn’t aroused by my time-travelling daughter’s boobs. Awesome note to go out on.

“Gawds, Morgan! Hurry up and get dressed!”

“I need to at least wipe myself down! I smell so bad!”

“So wear some perfume! Why would you just take off your clothes like that!?”

“But I’d still feel gross! What’s the big deal, anyway?”

“This pervert is!”

“What? Ew! Sis, that’s dad! Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it a million times before!”

_“You haven’t been born yet so no he hasn’t now get fucking dressed!”_

As illuminating as this conversation was, mostly because I had learned that Morgan was apparently something of a neat-freak like me and Severa had apparently also inherited a small part of my vocabulary, I was beginning to suffocate. I slapped the bed, tapping out as Severa shrieked at her sister.

“Er, Severa? Honey? Daddy can’t breathe.”

“Alright, alright, I’m getting dressed,” Morgan sighed. “God I want a change of clothes… Hey sis, do you have any spare panties?”

“MORGAN!”

“I’m serious!”

“Yes! Bottom of my pack! I want them back clean!”

“Yay! You’re the best sister ever!”

My head was spinning as my life flashed before my eyes, oxygen deprivation beginning to cause that annoying, constricting pain in my chest before Severa finally got off of me. Bolting upright I sucked in a deep breath of clean air, holding a hand to my chest.

“I thought I was gonna die!” I groaned.

 I gave a weak cough, furrowing my brow. Huh. My first asthma attack in almost a year. Amazing how they could still sneak up on me…

Severa rounded on Morgan as I bent to retrieve a vulenary from my pack, coughing a little again and fumbling.

“Er, dad? Are you okay?” Morgan asked, leaning around Severa.

Her sister spun, the look of contempt on her face fading to a subtler one of worry.

“Fine, fine,” I chuckled, coughing again. “Sheesh. Where is that stupid *wheeze* thing? I *cough* know I have one…”

Wrapping my hands around the vial safely wrapped in my spare trunks I sat back up, tearing out the cork with my teeth and drinking about a third of it.

“Jeez, I didn’t hit you that hard,” Severa mumbled, wilting guiltily.

“No, but suffocating me did give me an asthma attack,” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

Both girls went quiet as I took a few deep breaths, letting my lungs return to normal. Unfortunately, just being fitter and stronger didn’t cure anything. Once I was sure I was good I slapped my thighs, standing and grinning.

“Who’s hungry?”

* * *

 

That evening, after some emergency shopping for Morgan to get some basic necessities like smallclothes and a medieval toothbrush, I found myself sitting at a table in one of the cleaner-looking eateries in this town with my two daughters. And also Tharja and Noire. Funny how Tharja always seemed to know where I was…

The others were floating around, too, clearly having decided like I had that this was the optimal establishment to eat at. Lon’qu and Kjelle were both at the bar, the swordsman trying to subtly increase the distance between them as she ordered enough ale for the two of them to kill their livers with. Nah was sitting in the back with Lucina, the blue-haired royal watching a stack of plates growing ever-larger as Nah spent the entirety of the weekly stipend I’d provided her for food and essentials in one sitting. Whatever, kid deserved it. I’d shout her for the rest of the week.

Severa, Morgan and Noire all laughed at something that the young tactician had said, Tharja looking on with a soft smile as she watched her daughter.

Tharja. With a soft smile. Usually a look reserved for me after we’d spent the night defiling my bed. It was enough to make my head spin. But it did remind me of one important question.

I waited until a lull in the girls’ conversation before giving voice to my curiosity.

“Hey Noire? Who’s your dad?”

The effect that the question had on the girl was instantaneous. She went pale, paler than usual, and wilted, shifting a little to open space between her and her mother before looking down at the table. Clearly, I’d hit a sore spot.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s not that big a deal,” I tried laughing it off. “I just wanna know.”

“I… er… t-that is…” she mumbled, casting a fearful glance at her mother.

Tharja was glaring dangerously at her, though, making me even more curious.

“C’mon, out with it! I wanna know!” I urged.

“Yeah, me too!” Morgan added, grabbing her by the shoulder and shaking her a little. “C’moooooooooon!”

“Oh for Naga’s sake!” Severa finally snapped, turning to glare at me.

“It’s you! You’re her father! I’m sorry Noire, but I can’t handle them when they get like that!”

The silence at the table was deafening. My jaw dropped. Again. Severa huffed, crossing her arms and returning the death-glare a furious Tharja was shooting her. Noire was doing her best to look as small as possible, while Morgan just quirked her head as she tried to understand all of this.

Judging from Noire’s little panicky reaction, Severa hadn’t just been joking. To be sure I took a quick peek at Noire’s ample cleavage spilling out of her loosened collar. Clearly she had inherited her own mother’s bust, and… Nope. Nothing. Not even a twitch in my pants. That settled it, then. I just instinctively knew… My cock was never wrong.

As I shut my mouth I turned a glare of my own at Tharja, who wilted almost instantly under it. I was the only person that could glare her down like that, something I didn’t like doing. But it felt fitting right now.

“Something you want to tell me?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

“I won’t let you take her from me!” Tharja hissed instantly.

“Why, pray tell, would I do that?” I asked levelly.

“Don’t think for a second that the Ylisseans wouldn’t take the child of their vaunted tactical genius and a Plegian mage-”

“I don’t want to take her!” I shouted, slamming my hands down on the table.

Fortunately, it was already rather loud in the bar, so no one even batted an eyelash at the scene I was causing. Noire and Morgan did jump at my shout, though, which gave me a pang of guilt.

“Dad!” Severa hissed. “You’re really bad at this!”

“Dammit, I know!” I sighed, falling back into my seat. “What I meant was that there’s no way in hell I’d willingly separate a child from her mother. Noire, why didn’t you tell me?”

“B-because… mother asked me… not to…” she mumbled, looking up at me guiltily.

“Noted. Tharja, that was stupid of you. While I am pissed off right now, I am also happy. And slightly confused as to how I’m going to survive surrounded by so much feminine energy, but that’s a problem for later. Noire, make no mistake. Your father loves you.”

The young archer, apparently my daughter as well, sniffled and smiled, her whole face lighting up.  Tharja looked downtrodden, though, realizing the mistake she’d made. Of course I’d be happy! I mean, I loved Tharja, but not in a ‘let’s get married’ kind of way. More like… a sister I occasionally had rough sex with. I’d explained that to her. Human relationships were complicated in reality. She’d accepted that. Why in god’s name would she want to hide this from me now?

“And why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, turning to Severa.

She shrugged dismissively. “I still have gaps in my memory. That one only came back to me when I thought to myself ‘god I wish he’d shut up’.”

“Ooh I hope the rest of your day is as pleasant as you are,” I deadpanned. “I clearly did not spank you enough. So where does she fit into the timeline?”

“Oldest,” Severa huffed.

“Ah, middle child syndrome,” I said, nodding sagely. “That explains so much…”

Severa rolled her eyes, turning away from me again but remaining mercifully silent. I spun back to Tharja, red in the face now and looking at the table.

“Tharja,” I called out. “This is a lot to take in right now. But I’m not going to just abandon you and take Noire away. I care about you, and I come with automatic love for Noire. So… relax. Trust me.”

“I’m pregnant,” she said without looking up.

Noire winced as Severa sighed, shaking her head.

“What, now!?” I asked, aghast.

Tharja nodded meekly.

“B-but the herbs…”

“They are not fool-proof,” Tharja said. “I did warn you that sometimes they didn’t work…”

And with that the table fell into silence again. Oh, the awkward silence was painful. I didn’t know how to deal with this. I had done absolutely zero preparation for this eventuality, and it was clearly showing. After a few moments Morgan stood up, and all eyes turned to her.

“Fuck. This,” she announced, stepping back from the table.

I inwardly groaned, preparing myself mentally for a teenage freak-out. And who could blame her, being surrounded by all of this stupid adult bull-shit? However, she surprised us all, I think, when she stepped around Noire and threw her arms around a stunned Tharja in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy for you!” Morgan laughed. “How does this make us related? Are you, like, my Aunt? Fuck it, you’re my aunt! Congratulations, Aunt Tharja! We’re all happy for you! Especially Noire, because now she’s going to be born! _Right,_ everybody?”

Severa’s eyes widened as she nodded, clearly shocked by her little sister’s domineering attitude. Noire sniffled and shifted again, joining Morgan in hugging a catatonically-shocked Tharja, the Dark Mage’s mouth hanging slightly agape as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

At that point I was so fucking proud of Morgan it hurt. She could successfully adult far better than me.

And with that realization, I gave up. At that very point I gave the fuck up. There really was no fighting it at this point. Hell, I made more than enough to support two families if I had to, thanks to the little fact that I was Chrom’s retainer, so money wasn’t an issue. I had a big fuck-off fort to house everyone in. As for whether or not I was emotionally ready to have six kids? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “This is great news, Tharja. I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Tharja blinked and smiled back, her eyes getting a little misty as she basked in the attention.

Everyone was happy. Why wouldn’t they be? I would just have to be happy now and figure out how, exactly, this fucked up family dynamic was going to work later.

At least I now had a big fucking fort to house everyone. I kept focusing on the fort. It helped.

* * *

 

After dinner I found my ass on the floor outside the door to our room while the girls had a bath. Of course, this being one of the nicer inns they’d had enough hot water to fill a tub. It had cost me quite a bit for such a luxury, but both Morgan and Severa had been a little subdued after my sudden asthma attack and Tharja’s revelation at the tavern, so I’d decided to just shell out to cheer them up. Judging from the giggling and happy shrieking inside the room, it had worked.

I’d never understood that whole ‘fun-bath-time’ thing. I didn’t even like fucking in the shower back home. The shower was there for one purpose and one purpose only; to get clean. Soaking in a hot bath just seemed like a waste of time to me. But if the girls enjoyed it who was I to judge?

Noire and Tharja had retired to their inn next door, and I promised to make time to talk to them properly once we were back in Port Ferox. One thing was for certain, though. I’d just lost one of my major magical presences, because there was no way in the name of unholy fuck I was bringing a woman pregnant with my daughter to a warzone. She’d just have to stay behind and get first pick of rooms in my new fort.

I was considering calling it Fort Kickass, or something equally absurd. Fort Condor? No, no one would get the Final Fantasy reference… Fort DILLIGAF (which is an acronym for ‘Do I Look Like I Give A Fuck’?) was also a front-runner. Why was I sitting there thinking about what to name my Fort? Because I was drunk and reeling with the knowledge I was about to be surrounded by more estrogen than a man trapped in a women’s locker room.

It had been a long time since I’d drank. Since the victory party, in fact. But it had seemed fitting this evening.

Knowing that I didn’t marry Tharja had helped. Apparently in the future she’d been one of the first to go, during the Valmese war in fact, and I’d gotten Noire at quite a young age. Which explained why she had memories of her mother, but no actual Dark Magic know-how.

I would make sure that no one went without both parents in this fucking timeline. I promised myself that, right there and then.

However, the question of how to explain the newest development in the train-wreck that was my life to Cordelia was still eating at me.

Before I could ruminate further on this conundrum, though (and yes, I use big words when I’m drunk), the door behind me opened and I fell flat on my back.

“Okay Dad! It’s all safe!” Morgan said.

“Good to know,” I said, blinking from the floor.

Morgan snorted before doubling over with laughter. So we’d all had a little to drink that night. So what? Well, except for Tharja. No booze for my baby-mama. Oh god, I had a baby-mama. Holy fuck. My life was rapidly spiraling out of control and there was no light at the end of the-

“Rargh!” Morgan roared, throwing herself down on me with a text-book body-slam.

Like, a perfect, pro-wrestling body-slam, complete with landing most of her weight on the floor so it sounded painful, but really wasn’t. And then she proceeded to start tickling me.

“Oh my – BWAH-HA-HA – God, girl, I’m going to fucking – HA! HA-HA-HAH! – kill you if you don’t – HE-HE-HAH! – MORGAN! Get the fuck off of me!”

“NEVER!” Morgan declared, increasing the rate of her attack.

Clearly I was not the only one still slightly intoxicated. After a few more moments of torturous tickling I only endured due in no small part to the fact that I was, indeed, still drunk, Morgan stopped. Both of us panted as we lay on the floor, Morgan resting her head on my chest with one arm slung over me. We lay like this for a time, how long I wasn’t sure. Time passes funny when you’re drunk. After a while Severa appeared, leaning over top of us with a slightly less intense scowl than she usually wore on her face. Hell, it was almost a smile.

“Hey honey,” I grinned. “Think you can help me up? Daddy had too much to drink.”

“So did Morgan!” Morgan added, her head lifting slightly off my chest before plonking right back down. “Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi! You’re our only hope!”

“That you know that reference alone proves you are my daughter,” I said, looking down at the girl laying on my chest.

“Yeah!” Morgan cheered. “I remember you telling us the story of Star Wars when we were kids! It was always my favorite bedtime story! I liked Chewy! GWARBLERAWGLERAGH!”

“Everyone likes Chewy,” I agreed, nodding and grinning at her Wookie-impersonation.

Severa sighed and shook her head before reaching down and dragging Morgan off of me. I lay there as the sound of shuffling feet receded and approached again, Severa bending again to help me to my feet and closing the door now that I was finally out of the doorway. She led me to a bed, funnily enough already occupied with Morgan.

Okay, so we were both a whole hell of a lot drunker than she was. I could understand her not wanting to spoon with a drunken sister or, heaven forbid, father. So I made her life easy and flopped down next to Morgan, who giggled happily and snuggled back up to my side.

“Okay, scootch over,” Severa groaned, making shooing motions with her hands.

Morgan and I both glanced up at her before shrugging and doing as she said. I was pretty easy to corral when I drank, and clearly so was Morgan. So we did as we were told. And then Severa blew out the lamp illuminating the room and slid into bed on the opposite side as her sister, snuggling up close to my side the way Morgan had.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea!” Severa huffed, tsundere to the core. “I’m only doing this because… it gets cold at night!”

“Why did I even pay for the extra bed, then?” I sighed, wrapping an arm around both of my kids.

Okay, this? This I could deal with.

* * *

 

A few days later we tromped back into Port Ferox, spirits high. Well, everyone else’s spirits, anyway.

Now that I was finally back in Port Ferox I had to face the music and talk to Cordelia.

I debated getting cleaned up, first. Then I debated getting really, really drunk. In the end, though, I settled for simply finding Cordelia and telling her everything, otherwise I’d end up putting it off until it blew up in my face (if history was any indication). I hadn’t thought of anything worth saying. I didn’t really think I had anything worth saying. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be able to say anything when I did find her.

But, I had to try.

According to the guard rotation, she was supposed to be patrolling along the edge of the town at the moment, so that’s where I went. I found her before long, her pegasus trotting along behind her as she meandered her way along the path, eyes scanning everything despite her relaxed pace.

“Hey,” I called out, jogging a little to catch up with her.

When she spotted me her face broke out into a small smile, the same one that she always got when I did something particularly stupid that she couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Hey yourself,” she said as I finally caught up. “Didn’t you just get back?”

“We did,” I said. “I haven’t even had a chance to catch my breath yet.”

“Or take a bath, apparently,” Cordelia laughed.

“Hey, ouch,” I chuckled, feigning hurt. “First thing I do after a month on the road is rush back here to see you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Oh, met by the smelly Grandmaster himself,” Cordelia laughed. “I must be the luckiest girl in the world.”

I chuckled and shook my head, and we walked along in silence for a time. I marveled at the fact that, at some point, the people here had stopped being ‘characters from a game’ to me. They were real people, and I’d stopped making the distinction between the two groups a while ago now. I couldn’t pin down when.

“So to what was so important you had to rush all the way out here just to see me?” Cordelia asked.

Here we were, then. The crux of the matter. Time to take the plunge.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, clenching my fists to stop my hands from shaking.

“Well, I met my daughter,” I explained. “In fact, I met all three of them.”

“Three?” Cordelia asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” I said with a grin.

“Well, tell me about them!” Cordelia insisted.

“They’re all great,” I laughed. “Noire, the oldest, she’s… a little weird. Eccentric, likes to snap and shout random shit. She looks just like Tharja, too, but has shorter hair and smiles more.”

Cordelia’s face went slack for a moment before she made a thoughtful sound, turning back to the road as we continued to patrol. I stole a glance at her, wincing. She was wearing the same fake smile, the same mask, she’d worn in the months after her squad’s deaths during the war with Plegia. It hurt to see it again.

“I see,” she said eventually. “Lady Tharja must be ecstatic to have born you three children in the future.”

“Actually, Noire’s the only one,” I said, my grin widening. “The other two, they’ve got a different mother. You’ve already met one of them. But Morgan, the youngest, she’s my baby. Takes after me way more than her sisters. Like a chirper, happy version of me. But so mature for her age! Totally pulled my ass out of the awkward-fire a bunch of times while we were travelling! Full of energy, and looks just like her mom and sister. Oh thank the gods none of them look like me. But yeah.”

Cordelia stopped, eyes widening as I turned to look her square in the eye.

“She looks just like her sister, Severa. And her mother. You.”

Cordelia’s face burst into a radiant smile, and she shook her head a little, brushing past me.

“You know, you and Severa are a lot more alike than you might think,” she said. “I knew as soon as I met her who her father was.”

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot to… wait. What!?”

Cordelia laughed, tilting her head back as she spun to look at me again.

“She acts exactly like you when you’re in a mood,” she explained. “And she has your nose and eyes. I would very much like to meet this Morgan that takes after me so much, though.”

I blinked a few times, trying to comprehend this new twist.

“So you’re telling me you knew the whole time and didn’t tell me?” I asked, just to be sure.

“I wasn’t certain,” Cordelia explained. “Her memories of her childhood were hazy at best. And after our little talk in Ylisstol two years ago…”

She trailed off, and I involuntarily cringed.

“Yeah, so I’m hardly the most stable guy,” I sighed. “I’m terrified of commitment. I’ll admit it. Hell, I’ll shout it from the rooftops. But… I do love you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, but- MRPGH!”

Whatever else I was about to say was cut off as Cordelia stepped forwards, sealing my lips with her own. She dropped her spear, wrapping both arms around my neck and pulling herself closer to me. When she finally broke away she grinned at me a little, blushing slightly.

“I’ve waited two years to hear you say that,” she said. “And I love you too, with all that I am. With all of my heart.”

“A-are you sure?” I stammered. “Because, you know, I’m grouchy. And hairy. And short. And any boys I have will probably go bald, too. And, and I’m a total workaholic. And I have a child with another woman.”

Cordelia laughed again.

“Yes, that last one isn’t… ideal,” she agreed. “But we’ll work it out.”

“Okay, this seems too good to be true,” I said, furrowing my brow. “Like, this is way too easy. What’s the catch?”

Cordelia’s smile took on a slight hint of sadness, a note of pity in her next statement.

“Have you considered that I may just want to be with you?”

I blinked. “No. That doesn’t make sense. I don’t even want to be with me. Why would someone like _you_ want to be with me!?”

“Because of your kindness,” Cordelia said, blushing. “When I was at my lowest, it was you that was there to pick me back up. You were there, my hero, when no one else ever had been. You give yourself far too little credit.”

“But I-”

“No buts,” she interrupted me. “Naga knows I’m not perfect either. But you love me.”

“I do.”

“And I love you, too. I am tired of being alone. And I want you to be the one that ends my loneliness.”

I honestly never thought someone would ever say that to me again. ‘I love you’. It had been such a long time since I’d heard those words… I was choking up a little.

“I love you,” I repeated, my face breaking into a grin. “I… I don’t even have a ring to give you. But… would… er… I mean… if it’s not moving too fast… marry… me…?”

Cordelia was silent for a moment, looking up at me before a trail of tears began to run from her eyes, and her smile grew to the point where she could no longer contain her half-laughing, half-sobbing answer.

“Yes. Yes! Yes, I will marry you!”

I gave a relieved sigh, letting my forehead come to a rest against hers.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I didn’t think I’d… ever get another chance at this. This kind of life. I’m so fucking happy, Cordelia.”

“Not half as happy as you’ve made me!” she said, shaking her head slightly. “Thank you. I thought nothing could warm my heart again. I shall love you above all others, for the rest of my days.”

I grinned, the familiar line making me chuckle a little. But where it had been an irritating source of guilt at first, I welcomed it. Because it meant that I’d made it. S-rank support, marriage and children. Of course, this didn’t mean diddly-squat in reality. I’d have to work on it. Work on myself. Be a better man. The man Cordelia and Severa and Morgan, and even Noire and Tharja, all deserved.

I had a lot of work to do, in other words.

But, for the first time in more than four years as I held Cordelia against me, I felt a little inkling of hope for the future; that I wouldn’t be alone any more.

I shifted a little, frowning. This was physically uncomfortable, and not because I didn’t like to be touched…

“Woman, for once in our lives lose the breast-plate!” I grunted.

“W-wha-” Cordelia managed as I started tugging at the straps on her armor.

“No buts! For once I want to hold you, not the damn armor! I don’t care how small your boobs are!”

Cordelia laughed, swatting at my hands.

“N-no! Ben, not in public! Stop!” she giggled.

I’m pretty sure we were both smiling like idiots, but who cared. We were finally happy.

* * *

 

About a week after my confession to Cordelia and our subsequent engagement I marched through the Ylissean countryside, a clear destination in mind. We still had more time before the ships arrived, so I was running one last errand before we left for Valm; something I’d put off for far too long.

I’d opted to travel almost alone, with a few guards for my ‘safety’. A shadow passed over me, Morgan letting out an excited whoop as Cordelia led her mount in a sweeping dive before racing back into the air. Noire reflexively grabbed my sleeve, hiding a little behind my shoulder and Severa huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at her sister’s meek behavior.

Tharja was already halfway back to Fort Kickass. Elle and Bertha would take care of her until we got back (that’s right I’d totally poached Bertha and half of the other staff from Chrom before we’d left Ylisstol). She’d clearly not wanted to go, but Morgan and I had managed to talk her down with promises that I’d lead from the back ranks and play it totally safe. That, plus a fort full of unprotected servants to try out mean hexes and shit on, had apparently swayed her.

And now I was marching through idyllic Ylissean farmlands with my fiancé and time-travelling children.

God my family was screwed up… my brothers would have had a field-day.

But, as weird and broken as it was, it was still my family. The one I’d made for myself. Or… would make, once the kids were born… or… whatever.

I’d also come to terms with the fact I’d probably never go home now. Why bother? I missed my family, sure, but I had people here who depended on me. Honestly, I was pretty important in the Ylissean military, too. Something that had happened totally by accident. I had rank, I owned land, and I even employed servants for Christ’s sake. Why would I screw up a good thing by leaving?

“How much further is it?” Severa asked in a huff.

“Not much further,” I chuckled, mind returning to the task at hand. “Ask me that again, though, and I’ll turn this convoy around and there’ll be no clandestine mission for anyone.”

Severa shot me a glare before sighing and shaking her head. She had learned fast not to enable my stupid. Which was disappointing, sure, but it showed she was smart and capable of learning.

Papa Bear was so proud. That’s what they’d taken to calling me around camp. Thanks to a certain loud-mouthed manakete that liked to harp on me for being covered in hair… Nowi really did remind me of my youngest brother sometimes.

Noire looked up at me guiltily, grinning like a kid when I winked and ruffled her hair the way I did to Morgan. She got on great with her sisters, but it would clearly take some time for her to warm up to Cordelia. Which was fine; I wasn’t about to force them to have a relationship of any kind, but they were both trying for my sake, and that made me feel… strange.

It was strange, having a family like this. I took it for granted that my brothers and parents back home would put in as much as I did; that we’d compromise for each other, let shit slide to not start fights, and that we’d just be there for one another.

That the girls were all doing that here made me feel equal parts guilt, terror and blinding happiness.

In the distance the form of a farmhouse was growing ever larger. That was our destination.

He was waiting for us there.

Okay, so he had no idea we were coming. But before I went to Valm and potentially died I wanted to talk to him and settle the score.

Morgan let out another whoop above us as Cordelia spun her mount in a tight barrel roll, and Severa sighed.

“Knowing Morgan we’re going to spend the entire walk back picking up the stuff she dropped out of her pockets,” the tsundere-goddess muttered.

Noire instantly perked up, her sharp eyes scanning the ground around us to get a head-start on the clean-up, but I just grinned and shook my head. All of Morgan’s shit was currently weighing down my own pack; kid had common sense about the weirdest shit, I’d give her that. Noire jumped again, though, when an armored form appeared out of the stalks of wheat swaying in the breeze, his plates painted a dull green and his face smeared with black mud. Severa froze, hand already automatically going to the hilt of her sword.

“Report,” I said, forestalling their freak-outs.

The scout nodded.

“Sir. Target Alpha is in the farmhouse. We have squads positioned at points around the farm and in the village. Awaiting orders.”

“Stand-by. Dig in, prepare for a long stake-out. We need to make sure that nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, gets anywhere near him. Understood?”

“Sir!” the scout said, nodding deeply and disappearing back into the wheat.

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget you’re actually a respected military commander,” Severa huffed.

“Hey, I’m competent when I want to be,” I shrugged. “C’mon. Let’s not keep our host waiting.”

Morgan and Cordelia flew around the farmhouse, circling it as Severa stood in the shade of a nearby tree, standing watch with a frown on her face and her arms crossed. Noire followed me as I stepped up to the farmhouse, a determined set to my features.

The door opened and a man in plain clothes, a few years my junior, stepped onto the porch to meet us.

“I was wondering why there were so many soldiers hiding in my crops. Now I see that I’m paid a visit from the Lord of Tactics himself? To what do I owe the honor, milord?”

I stepped up to the man, about my height but thinner in the shoulders. And a thick shock of white hair atop his head.

“Robin, I presume?” I asked solemnly. “We need to talk.”

* * *

 

About an hour later Robin nodded slowly, setting down the simple tea cup he had been drinking out of. Noire and I sat across from him, both holding similar cups. He’d invited us inside to speak, and had even offered us tea. Not wanting to be a rude doucher, I accepted. Now I had just finished explaining things to him. Everything.

“That’s… quite a lot to take in,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah,” I agreed, casting a worried glance at Noire.

She was taking the revelation I’d come from a different universe altogether pretty well. Or else she didn’t understand.

“So… I’m meant to be you?” he asked slowly.

“You’re meant to be in my position,” I corrected. “Instead of finding you in the field, they found me first. That’s how this all began.”

Robin nodded again, a solemn look on his face for a moment before it broke into a grin.

“I’m actually rather glad you didn’t find me, then,” he said, a note of laughter in his voice. “Because the people that found me instead-”

“Robin? Darling, are you in here?”

All three of us looked up as a woman, the Village Maiden model from Awakening, walked in carrying a bundle of what could only be a baby to her chest. Robin’s grin increased as he stood, greeting the woman.

“Yes, dear,” he said. “I’d like to introduce you to the Lord of Tactics, sir Ben. And his… er…”

“My daughter,” I supplied, standing myself now. “I know, I know. I’m older than I look.”

The woman appeared flustered for a moment before nodding her head and dropping a polite, one-handed curtsey.

“M-milord, milady,” she greeted, eyes downcast.

I laughed, smiling.

“Please, don’t bother,” I said. “I’m not on the clock right now. Just Ben is fine.”

“O-of course, Sir Ben!” the maiden said quickly. “W-where are my manners! I’ll get you some tea! Robin, hold Morgan for-”

I laughed again, putting a forestalling hand on the woman’s shoulder. Robin was grinning, too, barely containing his own laughter.

“Relax,” I said. “Robin already served us. He’s been a perfect host and you have a beautiful and warm home. Very inviting.”

“T-thank you, sir,” she said. “It’s n-not very often we see nobility in these parts. I never thought… I’d play host to one.”

“It’s nice to see some things are universal, though,” I laughed, looking down at the baby in her arms. “My youngest, her name is Morgan, too.”

“Truly?” the maiden asked in surprise.

“Yes, what a coincidence,” Robin snickered.

The baby began to sniffle, clearly being uncomfortable being around so many people. The Village Maiden shushed her, bouncing her lightly and trying to calm her.

“We should probably leave,” I said kindly. “Are you sure I can’t talk you into joining us, Robin? We could use another sharp mind in the Ylissean Armed Forces.”

He shook his head, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist and pulling her and his daughter close.

“No, milord,” he said. “My place is here. Whatever was meant to be… well… I have a good life here now.”

I nodded. It was fair, in my opinion. We both had good lives. His was probably better than mine, though… no one trying to kill him on a daily basis.

“Although, one thing does come to mind,” he added, separating from his wife and turning. “Wait right here, please.”

I looked questioningly to the woman, who shrugged apologetically. Noire shifted behind me, reminding me she was there, too. After a few moments Robin reappeared, holding a black bundle out to me.

“When they found me, this was all I had,” he explained. “Somehow it feels like… you should have them. Ylisse’s tactician should have them.”

I accepted the bundle. A black coat, Robin’s coat, unfurled in my hands. Wrapped within it was a spellbook.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep these?” I asked in a low voice.

He smiled, shaking his head.

“I’m not the man you described,” he explained. “Besides, it seems like you slipped into that role pretty easily. Take them.”

I nodded, folding the coat back up and tucking both items under my arm.

“Thank you, Robin,” I said. “If it’s okay, I’ll come back to visit once we return from Valm.”

“Of course, milord,” he said as we left. “In fact, I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t have been there that day, I never would have met my love, and I never would have been able to achieve… all of this. So thank you.”

I smiled over my shoulder one more time before stepping out of the house, into the bright daylight. Noire was right on my heels, looking back and forth between me and the house. I set a slow pace as we headed back to where Severa was waiting. Cordelia and Morgan had joined her in the shade, letting her pegasus rest a little. Noire looked up at me in concern.

“Are you… o-okay?” she asked quietly as we walked. “All of that… stuff you said… about…”

“I’m alright,” I chuckled, ruffling her hair. “It’s all old news now. Here’s where I am, and here’s where I’ll stay.”

I stopped, and on a whim I pulled Robin’s coat on. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for me.

I looked down at my daughter, smiling up at me as she fixed her hair. In the distance Morgan called out, smiling and laughing as she waved at us. Cordelia smiled as well, running a hand along her mount’s neck as it whinnied. Severa glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, her expression softening as she did.

This was where I was.

This was where I’d stay.

I had work to do here. Here, I had a purpose. There were wars to fight, and people to protect. People like Robin and his wife. Like Elle and Bertha back at Fort Kickass. Hell, even people like my family, waiting for me in the shade. Even that didn’t feel weird to me anymore.

“I’m alright,” I repeated, a smile rising to my face as I started walking again.

Turns out Lucina had been right. There was still good in the world.

Not like I’d ever tell her that to her face, though…

“I’m alright.”

 

_**The Original End** _


	3. Metallover's Self Insert Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas story I wrote out of sheer boredom for Christmas 2017. Some canonical inconsistencies to the main Self-Insert-verse are no doubt in here, but you’ll all notice a variety of new little factoids that may or may not make their way into the main story at a later date. I’m not even going to list them, just act like they’re Boba Fett surviving in Disney’s new Star Wars canon; they may be canon or they may not be, only time will tell.

_Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a-_

“Fuck this snow bullshit! Argh! Do you know where I lived before Ylisse? The tropics. Do you know why!? Because it doesn’t fucking snow! Why do people even live in a place like this!? Do you know the last time I even saw my testicles!? Do you!?”

I shivered, pulling my coat tighter around my shoulders. Unbeknownst to most people that were acquainted with me I had a pretty high tolerance for the cold up to a certain point. Once that point was reached, however…

“Fuck snow, fuck ice, and fuck the holiday season!” I growled, rubbing my arms for good measure.

From my side Robin gave a little laugh, shaking her head. “I think the last time I heard you complain like this was in Valm when we couldn’t get the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies.”

“Raisins are not a valid substitute for chocolate, Robin!” I snapped.

The beautiful young white-haired woman just laughed, brushing one white pigtail over her coat’s shoulder. We were walking through the snowy streets of Ylisstol towards the Palace, where all the Shepherds would be spending the holidays together as part of Nagamas.

Yes, fucking Nagamas.

It was a thing. A carbon-copy of Christmas except it celebrated the birth of Naga. Unlike the birth of the messiah (depending on who you ask, anyway), however, Tiki was here to verify that yes, December 25th was actually her mother’s birthday. And, being the reigning monarch, Chrom had decided to throw a Christmas - Nagamas, fuck! – party just for the Shepherds. There would be a big fancy-ass ball on the 24th for the visiting nobility and blah blah blah, but all I really cared about was getting fucked up on egg nog and eating my weight in turkey.

The snow rose almost to my knees it had been falling so heavily, an anomaly for this time of year according to Miriel, and Robin’s coat actually left a little trail in the snow where it was dragging. Most of the shops in the capital weren’t open due to the crappy weather, but we’d still had to go and find someone to sell us booze. I wasn’t spending a holiday season under any name sober. Fortunately the best distillery wasn’t far from the Royal Ward, so we’d only had to trudge through knee-deep snow in what was fast becoming a blizzard for about an hour and a half to find them mercifully open. Well, okay, not open-open, but it was nothing a few extra shiny coins couldn’t fix. I did feel kind of bad for breaking down that door, though. Meh, never come between me and booze. Now, burdened with bags containing a good thirty liters of spirits in various glass bottles, we were returning victorious. Chrom had heaps of ale and wine stored away, but both I and the visiting Feroxi liked the harder stuff.

“Oh bitch, bitch, bitch,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “Look, you wanted the booze.”

“Yeah, only because Flavia’s paying.”

“Regardless, this was your idea.”

“So why are you here?”

“I like to watch you suffer.”

“Why are we not married?”

“Because I don’t like bearded men,” Robin laughed, giving me a playful shove.

However, unfortunately due to the fact that the ground beneath my feet was covered in a good foot of ice and snow, I slipped and fell flat on my back. I twisted so that the precious booze would land on the soft snow beside me. Blinking and waiting for my senses to return to me I decided ‘fuck it’ and lay there, my back slowly freezing and my cheeks starting to tingle, watching the snow fall lazily down on my face as Robin laughed. After a few moments she finally calmed, and something fell down into the snow beside me. I glanced over, Robin grinning at me as she lay back in the snow at my side.

“The hell are you doing?” I asked.

“You looked comfortable,” Robin laughed.

“I’m just frozen.”

“I can fix that,” Robin said, a devilish grin on her face.

Before I could even make a witty remark she leaned over me, boobs pressing right into my chest as she rummaged around in the bag at my side and pulled out the first bottle she could find that looked like scotch.

“Warmer yet?” she asked, knowing exactly what she’d done.

“Give me the scotch, then we’ll talk.”

Robin laughed again as she cracked the wax seal on the bottle, taking a long swig before passing it to me. I sat up just enough to take a long drink of my own, the harsh liquor burning its way to my stomach and sending some warmth back to my limbs. Finally, reluctantly, I sat back up, brushing the snowflakes out of my beard as I did.

“Never thought I’d get away with sitting in the middle of the street drinking,” Robin laughed.

I glanced around, realizing we were, indeed, sitting in the middle of what would usually be a busy upper-class Ylisstol street. High class boutiques and cafes lined the road, gardens buried beneath the snow spread out at regular intervals along the sides of the paved street. However it was deserted, all the sane people hiding from the weather in their nice warm houses. I sneezed, shaking my head and climbing carefully back to my feet.

“Alright, I want to be drunk and I don’t want to freeze to death as I do it,” I said, reaching down to help Robin up. “Let’s go make a mess out of that fancy apartment that Chrom set us all up in.”

Robin allowed me to pull her up, giving me another devilish smile.

Before pushing me back over in the snow and trying to dance away.

However, Robin and I had been partners in crime for years now, and I knew this was coming. As I went down I shouted a muffled curse, scissoring my legs and tripping the tactician. She gave a small shriek of surprise before face-planting in the snow herself, and then I was on her.

“Oh yeah, real smart! You asked for this!” I shouted, shoveling handfuls of snow into her loose collar and down her back.

“Eek! Ben you bastard, stop that’s really cold!” Robin laughed, bucking me off and tossing a handful of snow in my face for good measure.

“You started this!” I repeated, flinging snow back at her.

After only a few moments we were already breathing hard, totally covered in the white powder. As a side note, my shirt was now full of snow, too; she’d gotten in close there for a few moments, just long enough to exact her revenge. I was kneeling as Robin stood, her hands on her knees, both of us struggling to catch our breath as we exchanged a glance.

“Truce?” Robin asked, brushing some of the powder out of her hair.

“Truce,” I gasped, nodding.

Robin stepped forward, offering me her hand this time. I waited for her to get close, then as soon as she dropped her guard my hands snapped out, pulling the waistband of her pants out enough for me to dump a handful of snow down the front of her pants while screaming “No prisoners!” at the top of my lungs. She yelped, hitting me with a blast of subconscious wind magic that lifted me up and threw me onto my back. Then she was there, straddling my chest, hands both full of clumped snow as she smiled down at me with just a hint of that old Grimleal madness in her eyes.

“No prisoners,” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous.

“I regret nothing!” I shouted, flinging another handful of snow in her face.  

Thus our outing devolved into a snow-flinging free-for-all, both of us utterly frozen by the time we managed to drag our sorry carcasses back to the palace.

I still won, though.

* * *

 

“I cannot believe you had a snowball fight without me,” Morgan sulked a few hours later.

“I totally won,” I said, my teeth still chattering.

“Y-y-you… wish,” Robin stammered, sniffling miserably. “That was m-my… over… overwhelming victory!”

We were seated on Chrom’s ridiculously over-sized chairs in front of the fireplace in the apartment that a good ten of us were sharing for the duration, bundled up under blankets as we desperately tried to raise our core temperatures above ‘cadaver’. Morgan huffed, the hem of her inherited blue coat, the same one I’d worn during the campaign in Valm and was currently hanging drying in my room, flashing in my peripheral vision next to a familiar black coat that I knew for a fact was hanging up drying in Robin’s room.

“Yes, yes, you’re both great heroes of the Snowball War. Here, drink these.”

I glanced up, a white-haired young man passing us both steaming mugs. Robin’s was tea, mine was coffee. Sweet, blessed coffee. Morgan appeared next to him, holding a mug of her own. Daraen, Robin’s time-travelling son, crossed his arms and glared down at us.

“Really, how old are the two of you?” he asked, mimicking almost perfectly the tone his mother used when she was chewing me out.

I shrugged as Robin let out another sniffle, the two of us sipping our drinks in tandem. Usually the boy was mellower than this, but I guess, like everyone else, being around me had ruined him. Morgan rolled her eyes, moving to perch on the arm of my chair and leaning back against my shoulder. The girl was a mere wisp of a thing, looking even smaller in her ridiculously oversized coat, half my size and looking almost exactly like her mother. Her shoulder length brown hair was pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail, strands of hair protruding every-which-where, grinning at her male counterpart.

“Oh, leave them alone, Daraen,” she chuckled. “Even old people gotta have some fun.”

“Hey, fuck you I’m only ten years older than you in this timeline,” I huffed, jabbing my fingers in my daughter’s ribs.

Morgan let out a squeak, giggling a little as she re-settled herself against me. Robin gave another sniffle.

“I think I caught a cold,” she groaned.

“You started it,” I shrugged.

“And I finished it, too,” she grinned.

“Well just for that I’ma be a sore loser and not share this with you,” I said, slowly pulling a smaller bottle of random brown liquor I’d pulled out of my bag when I’d been changing out from beneath my blanket. I then proceeded to pour a generous helping into my mug, then Morgan’s for good measure (which she seemed to be very happy about), all as Robin watched with undisguised longing in her eyes. She relented, gave a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, you won, happy?” she grumbled, holding her own mug out.

“Yes,” I said, topping her off. “Undefeatable, baby. Good for morale.”

“Hail to the undefeatable Lord of Tactics!” Morgan declared.

“Kiss ass all you want, I’m not giving you any more booze,” I chuckled.

“Aw, you suck,” Morgan pouted.

“When you turn eighteen and your liver is no longer my problem, then you can drink as much as you want,” I said, taking another sip of my boozy coffee. “Until then, moderation. Because I love you.”

“Aw, love you too, dad- stop trying to distract me!”

We all laughed, before settling in before the fire to warm up in silence for a little while. Morgan eventually forced me to scoot over and was now bundled under the blanket with me, while Daraen was still perching on the arm of his mother’s chair. Robin cast us a few little glares, clearly still jealous I had such a close relationship with my spawn and she didn’t. And why wouldn’t she? Morgan was the cutest thing in this world. Hell, in any world. In existence. And she was mine. How I, a self-professed ‘ugly fucking chode’ had created such a masterpiece I would never know. That’s not to say I didn’t think Noire was adorable, too, but Morgan was small and adorable. I couldn’t help it. With a sigh Morgan, the most adorable thing in existence, reached forward, placing her empty mug on the floor and snuggling back against my shoulder.

“I hope the others all make it here okay,” she said, pointedly looking out the window.

Snow was still falling outside, the sky having becoming an ominous dark grey since we had gotten back. One of Chrom’s servants would probably be along soon to light lanterns and lamps in every room it was starting to get so dark outside.

“Why, worried you won’t be able to torture Yarne?” Daraen asked.

“Well, yeah,” Morgan shrugged. “But it just wouldn’t be the same without the whole set, would it?”

“I heard Yarne and Panne were arriving this afternoon,” Robin supplied. “Out of everyone I think the snow would affect them the least.”

“Or the most, considering how much clothing they usually wear,” I added.

“Meh, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Daraen said flippantly. “There’s an open bar, right? I’d say that would be enough to bring just about everyone back, even Gerome.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Think I’ll finally see him without his mask?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Doubt it,” Daraen shrugged.

“I feel like I could make a Batman joke here, but I’m still too cold,” I sighed.

“So add some more whiskey to your drink?” Morgan suggested. “I like Batman jokes…”

“Even if I did I wouldn’t share,” I said, pointedly quirking a brow.

“Argh! You suck!” she wailed. “Batman would have shared!”

“Morgan?” I said.

“Yes, dad?”

“I’m Batman,” I said, my voice low and gravelly.

* * *

 

Of course, the snow didn’t stop for the next few days as the Shepherds trickled in, culminating with a nearly frozen Say’ri and Tiki, the swordmaster having ridden the ancient manakete to Ylisstol when it became apparent that their caravan wouldn’t be able to pass through the snow. She had then spent the entire evening trying to apologize to Tiki for riding her ‘like a common wyvern’. Which had been hilarious. It had only gotten funnier when Cherche had overheard the Princess refer to the noble wyvern as a ‘common flying skink’. Libra had been a busy priest that evening.

I was now sitting with Say’ri and Tiki in Chrom’s study, the Exalt himself stoking the fire as an attentive Frederick watched with a very put-out expression on his face.

“Fie, but it is cold here,” Say’ri complained, wrapping a delicate cream shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“If you were wearing adequate clothing instead of a freaking yukata maybe you wouldn’t be so cold,” I grinned.

Chrom and I were both rugged up, and even Frederick looked bulkier than usual in his suit. Clearly the knight/butler had donned a thermal onesie underneath. Chrom was wearing a dignified jacket over his thickest tunic, and I was lounging in my duty uniform with my old coat thrown over top, both of which were surprisingly warm. However, unlike us Tiki was wearing her usual miniskirt, and Say’ri had opted for a lovely kimono that would no doubt have been more than adequate for a Chon’sinian winter.

“It is unseasonably cold this year,” Chrom pointed out as he sank into his own chair.

Tiki let out a mighty yawn, her eyelids clearly growing heavy. I gave a laugh as Say’ri sighed, shaking her head a little. Grinning I shrugged off my coat and handed it to a startled Tiki.

“Here, you look like you’re about to hibernate,” I chuckled.

“Hey, I’m not actually cold blooded you know,” she huffed, taking the coat and slipping it around her shoulders. “And I’ll have you know that… uh… ah, so warm… now I’m even sleepier…”

“My lady Voice, please,” Say’ri groaned.

“None of that!” Tiki declared, suddenly awake again. “We are all friends here. I keep telling you, no formalities. Speak to me the way Ben does.”

“Indeed,” Chrom agreed, grinning. “Although, perhaps show a little bit more respect than Ben does. In any case, how was the voyage over here?”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m respectful,” I muttered.

“Long,” Tiki huffed. “Boring. Say’ri wouldn’t come out of her cabin.”

“You know I am afraid of water,” Say’ri muttered, looking away as she blushed.

“But you can only play shogi so many times!” Tiki moaned.

“I had go as well,” Say’ri mumbled, blushing redder.

“What, did you forget all my remedies?” I asked mockingly.

“I ate so many crackers my mouth was a desert and I tied that little cord around my wrist so tight I feared I would lose my hand,” Say’ri ground out. “Tis not only the seasickness. Tis the… the water. It is so deep and… open and… fie, I feel queasy merely thinking about it.”

“And the crew were no fun,” Tiki pouted. “They were all so fixated on me being the Voice none of them would even hold a conversation with me! Even the Captain!”

“Then I suppose your only option is to stay here with us, huh?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows. “Either that or get a chessboard for the trip back. They’re great, you can play checkers on them, too.”

“I still find it strange how you can do that,” Tiki said, watching my eyebrows flutter.

“We will be staying until Spring, at the least,” Say’ri said, ignoring my show of eyebrow dexterity. “With your blessing, of course, Exalt Chrom.”

“No. Formalities,” Tiki repeated, a wide, childlike grin spreading on her face as I did my rendition of the Rock’s ‘people’s eyebrow’.

“Yes, of course, Say’ri,” Chrom smiled. “I’d be happy to play host to the both of you. I doubt I’ll be able to get rid of anyone before spring anyway, if I’m honest.”

“Hell, you keep feeding me and I’ll never leave,” I said, finally looking away from Tiki. “Remember how long it took for me to get my own place last time? Sumia had to practically chase me out. Speaking of, where is Sumia, anyway?”

“She’s with Cordelia and the girls, checking on the pegasai,” Chrom said. “Cynthia was worried they would be cold in the roost.”

“I’ve been in the damn roost,” I grumbled. “It’s warmer than my room. Hell, it’s warmer than this room.”

“We’re sitting a foot away from the fireplace,” Tiki laughed.

“You’ll excuse me if I’m still not used to drafty old castles,” I deadpanned.

“My palace is not ‘drafty’!” Chrom said defensively.

“Your palace is drafty and so is the damn fort you gave me,” I snapped. “Send some more damn blankets up to my room!”

“How many more blankets do you need!?” Chrom asked, exasperation radiating off of him.

“Morgan keeps stealing them all!”

“Well steal them back!”

“You look at that adorable face and then tell me if you could take blankets from her! Could you steal blankets from Lucina!? Well, okay maybe not future-Lucina, because she’s been grouchy lately, but from baby-Lucina!? Could you!?”

Chrom let out an exasperated sigh as Tiki and Say’ri burst into laughter. Frederick just shook his head, standing by silently waiting for the kill order I had no doubt Chrom would be giving any day now.

That’d be a hell of a fight. Me vs Frederick. I’d probably go down, but I wouldn’t make it easy for him…

“I do not approve of the way you instantly react to Lucina but not to my darling Morgan,” I said, my eyes narrowing.

Chrom froze for a moment before leaning forward in his chair, his face stony. “She’s my adorable little girl.”

“Morgan’s adorable.”

“Lucina is adorable.”

“Morgan’s cuter.”

“Beware, Ben, those are fighting words,” Chrom said, his voice low. “You come dangerously close to speaking treason before your ruler.”

“I speak truth!” I declared. “Morgan is the pinnacle of cuteness! My daughter is supreme!”

“Lucina is a Princess! She’s the cutest! Ever! Princesses are cute!”

“You’re royalty, that’s an unfair bias!”

“Yes, I am royalty! And as your liege I order you to admit Lucina is cuter!”

“Fuck no! Make me!”

“Fie, but you two dote on those girls,” Say’ri laughed, cutting us off before we could kill each other.

Chrom and I traded glares before looking away from each other. To my great shame this was not an argument we hadn’t had before. It usually ended with us in the training ground. Or, more specifically, me lying on the training ground concussed as Chrom stood over me. Just because I’d gotten stronger lately didn’t quite mean I could go toe-to-toe with the big guy, but I like to think I gave a decent accounting of myself. Especially when I was defending my baby’s honor.

“I’m almost jealous,” Tiki said, fake-pouting. The effect of which damn near killed me from cuteness.

“Ladies, I would be more than happy to facilitate the creation of two more Morgans if you would like me to-”

“Frederick,” Chrom called, finally snapping.

I was cut off, managing a strangled croak before my windpipe was restricted, as two meaty hands wrapped around my throat from behind, bodily lifting me out of the chair and dragging me from the room.

“Very good, milord,” Frederick said, not even struggling as he simultaneously strangled me and dragged me from the room.

Tiki and Say’ri exploded into laughter again as I was ejected from the room, and all I could think as stars danced around my vision was ‘ _okay, maybe a fight between us would still be a little one-sided_ ’.

“Tiki! Tiki I need my coat back! Ti- Frederick, fuck you, let me go, I’m going! Tiki! It’s fuckin’ cold in this hallway! Coat! Coooooooooooat!”

* * *

 

It was the day before Nagamas now, and the snow still hadn’t let up. On the plus side it meant that none of the local nobility had been able to come for the big fancy ball that Chrom and Sumia were supposed to throw, so I didn’t have to deal with that particular brand of bullshit. The downside was that Chrom’s palace, while pretty fucking huge, still wasn’t big enough to hold all of the Shepherds without copious amounts of collateral damage. And after a week of constant snow everyone was starting to go more than a little stir crazy. The weather got so bad that no one could go outside to find gifts, so at least I didn’t have to deal with that bullshit, either! All my Christmas wishes were coming true! But the constant snowfall was starting to get a little worrying for the others. Every morning now the mages went up to the palace’s roof and battlements to blast the accumulated snow off so that the roof didn’t cave in. The temperature, too, kept dropping, and to conserve fuel and heat whole wings of the palace were being closed off, adding to the general feeling of cabin-fever-pandemonium.

Basilio and Flavia had been drunk for days. Straight. I had tried to keep up with them, but I just… I couldn’t do it. They were on a whole different level, a whole different plane of existence, to me. Vaike had valiantly tried, too, but I think he was still in an alcohol induced coma somewhere…

Yarne and Panne were both dangerously close to hibernating, something I wasn’t sure that Taguel even did. I think they had turned the basement into a warren of some kind. Last I heard Panne had actually shifted forms and chased the help out of the room.

Both Minervas were actually hibernating, to Cherche and Gerome’s great distress. I hadn’t seen Cherche out of the Pegasus roost in nearly two days, and Gerome was surlier than usual. Although if he snapped at Morgan again I was going to shove that mask up his ass…

Frederick was leading his usual ‘Hell Hour’ fitness sessions, ensnaring just about anyone and everyone who walked by. Including the skeleton staff of maids and butlers that hadn’t gone home for the holiday. Amazingly enough it appeared that Tharja had been so bored she’d joined in willingly. And instantly regretted her decision as she realized that sports-bras hadn’t been invented in Ylisse yet, much to my and many of the other Shepherds’ great amusement.

Olivia, Inigo, Stahl, Cordelia, Brady and Severa had been practicing non-stop for the upcoming Nagamas party’s entertainment, and I’d heard Inigo complaining more than once about blisters on his feet from the constant dancing. Which was weird, because I’d seen Olivia’s feet. Now, I’m not into feet, but hers were so perfect they gave me second thoughts.

But Lissa was still insistent that we hold the Shepherds’ Christmas party, even without the gifts, and was insisting on decorating every room in the palace we were still using. Which was why she, Owain, Sumia, Cynthia and Lucina were all in my shared room hanging up tinsel and other ornaments. Sumia had just left to get more paper snowflakes, though.

“Honestly I’m surprised Morgan’s not helping you,” I said, watching from the opposite side of the room.

“We asked, but she’s arguing tactics with Daraen again,” Cynthia said, giving me a devilish grin. “When do you think they’ll get married?”

“It’ll have to be right after the funeral, because if he puts the moves on my baby girl I’m gonna kill him,” I ground out through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t kill Inigo,” Owain pointed out, distractedly holding up a line of tinsel while Lissa affixed it to the wall above the fireplace. “Or Virion.”

“He almost killed Inigo,” Lissa laughed. “It was before you arrived. He gave the poor boy such a beating. Olivia didn’t talk to him for a week.”

“He did?” Owain asked, aghast.

“As for Virion, I know his training routine,” I shrugged. “I couldn’t beat him in a stand up fight.”

“It takes a great hero to admit when they are outclassed!” Cynthia practically cheered.

“Which is why he spiked Virion’s wine with laxatives,” Lucina deadpanned, glaring at me.

“It was funny,” I shrugged defensively.

“He was ill for days!” Lucina snapped. “You almost killed him with dehydration!”

“It. Was. Funny,” I insisted.

“It was kinda funny,” Lissa chuckled, agreeing with me.

Lucina sighed, and Robin gave a weak groan from where she was bedridden in the adjoining room. She had actually caught a cold, but Lissa and Tharja were both caring for her, so she’d apparently be back on her feet in time for the party.

“They’re not wrong! It was pretty funny,” she called out, her voice sounding oddly nasal from the cold.

“You’re supposed to be resting!” Lissa called back.

“I was until Owain’s first ‘sword hand’,” Robin groaned.

All the women present turned glares on the blonde boy, who wilted under the combined scrutiny. He actually went pale. It brought a smile to my face and warmed my cold, holiday-hating heart.

“Okay, we’re getting distracted here,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Why. My. Room.”

“Oh, I’m decorating everywhere. Besides, I have to keep this bunch busy!” Lissa said, hopping down from the stool she had been on and grabbing the three younger Shepherds in a tight mom-hug, despite diminutive her size.

Owain smiled like he’d been looking forward to this, which given circumstances he probably had been, while Cynthia laughed awkwardly. Lucina made direct eye-contact with me and mouthed the words ‘help me’ as obviously as she could. I rolled my eyes, just as Sumia came back into the room carrying a large box of paper snowflakes that would, in a manner of hours, no doubt be hanging from the ceiling.

I was already debating how best to light them on fire without burning us all alive.

“I’m back! What did I miss?” she announced cheerily, setting the box down on the coffee table. Without tripping. Which was personal growth for her.

“Not much, just Ben being a grouch and Robin being sick,” Lissa pouted.

“Okay, well Sumia’s back so I’m tapping Lucina out. C’mon, Princess, we got work to do,” I said, standing. “And Lissa, it’s been years. You’d think you’d be used to me being a grouchy douche by now.”

Lissa stuck her tongue out at me as Sumia rounded on me, her brow furrowing in a glare. “No working during the holidays!”

“I have a lot of people that depend on my work to live,” I said, rolling out my neck. “And Luce’s been my assistant for years. I need her help on this.”

“Do not call me that,” Lucina said weakly, already crossing to my side.

“If you’re going to go get high without me I’m gonna kick your ass!” Robin shouted woozily from her room.

Sumia’s expression turned crestfallen as she pointed her big, watery puppy-dog eyes at Lucina, her lower lip quivering. “B-but… this is our first Nagamas as… a family… you don’t want to spend it a-as a family?”

Before Lucina could cave I stepped forward, sighing out my nose and placing my hands on her shoulders.

“Okay, one, Chrom’s not here either, and two, I’m not stealing her forever, just a few hours. I’ve got some paperwork in the study and I’m not doing it all alone. Robin would usually do it, but since she lost so spectacularly at the snowball fight I’m stuck doing it myself.”

“Have fun, ya bastard!” came Robin’s cackle. “To the victor go the spoils! Ugh… Lissa! The room’s spinning again!”

“So lie down and rest!” the Princess called back.

“But I don’t wanna!” Robin whined.

Sumia seemed to deflate, looking down, and even I felt a small twinge of guilt.

“Alright,” the Queen said with a nod. “As long as it’s only for a few hours.”

“I’ll have her back before you know it,” I promised. “C’mon, assistant. Assist me.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Lucina sighed as we stepped out into the hallway.

I just grinned, and we proceeded to the study in amicable silence. It wasn’t far, just around the corner, and as soon as I closed the door to the cluttered room Lucina let out a sigh and sunk to one of the comfortable chairs that were placed almost randomly around the piles of books and papers as an afterthought.

“Ben, thank you so much for saving me,” she groaned, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands. “I love my family dearly, but they can be so… so…”

“Psychotic?” I offered.

“No, you ass, overbearing,” Lucina snapped.

“Well, don’t get too giddy,” I shrugged. “Because I wasn’t kidding about that paperwork. I was just gonna leave it for Robin, but since we’re here and we’re both bored…”

Lucina sat there, watching me with an unreadable expression on her face as I crossed to the small stack of forms on the mostly-clear desk. It was nothing special, some requisition stuff I’d wanted to pass off to Anna, preferably while she was drunk and couldn’t rip me off as bad as she usually did. But like I’d said, I was bored and we were here, so…

“I have a better idea,” Lucina said, rising slowly to her feet.

“Oh? This ought to be good…” I said, leaning back against the desk with a grin. “What, pray tell, does our paragon of virtue and goodness think more important than _paperwork_?”

“I’ve been somewhat… stressed out lately,” Lucina said, removing the tiara from her hair and shaking it loose, smiling as her silken blue tresses fell free. “Perhaps you could help… relieve some of my stress?”

Pretty sure my jaw hit the floor. _Lucina!?_ Of all people… the Princess, the one who made my life a literal hell every time I did anything even remotely stupid, one of my best friends since coming here to Ylisse, one of the top-tier most attractive waifus _in this fucking world_ , was… down to bang?

Well then.

Fuck reason, fuck morality, and most importantly fuck conscience.

“Hell, it’s about damn time,” I grinned, crossing my arms.

Fuck. The hell. Yes.

“So you will do as I ask?” Lucina asked, taking a few seductive steps towards me, grinning with half-lidded eyes.

“Sure, why not? Might be nice to take the passive role for a change.”

“Do you promise? I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I promise to do as you ask. Princess…”

Lucina finally reached me, giving a small chuckle as she crossed her own arms.

“Good,” she said. “Then… on your knees.”

* * *

 

A few minutes later Lucina leaned back in her chair, her back arching a little as she let out a euphoric moan.

“Ahh, that feels good…” she mumbled, brushing the loose hair back from her face.

I sighed, kneeling at the base of the chair with her foot in my hand, kneading it with a sour look on my face. The simple fact that both of us were still wearing pants was enough to ruin my entire day…

“You misled me,” I muttered darkly. “You used my libido against me. Fuck you. Fuck you and everyone that looks like you.”

“Ahn, you, mmm, promised,” Lucina panted. “And I was not… ah! Was not lying when I said… I had been under… uhn… stress lately… how did you get so good at this?”

“Practice,” I grumbled. “I don’t just stick it in, wiggle it around a little and then go home. I’m a conscientious lover, thank you. Do you even know what that word means? It means-”

“I know what it means… ahhhhh… and add that to the list of things I didn’t care to hear,” Lucina said, grinning down at me. “Although I must say I do like the look of you on your knees before me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I warned. “I’m not into playing the sub. You need to get better boots. I can practically feel the knots in your feet, and I didn’t know you could even get knots in your feet.”

Lucina laughed, placing one foot gently on the side of my face and prompting a vein to twitch in my forehead.

“Oh don’t ruin this for me,” she laughed. “You so often give me grief it is nice to- eeeek! Did you just bite me!?”

“Don’t put your stanky-ass feet on my face, woman!” I shouted.

Lucina grunted, kicking me in the shoulder and forcing me onto my back. Then she got that manic grin again, the kind she only got when I was about to get my ass beat, as she stood over top of me. It had been a while since I’d seen Lucina’s sadistic side, and quite honestly I could have gone longer without.

“You really are a dom, aren’t you?” I asked.

Lucina responded by planting one foot squarely in the middle of my chest and squatting down on top of me, chuckling darkly as she smiled only inches above me, her hair falling and creating a small shadowy world around our faces that seemed to shut out everything else.

“I am not,” she said, running the tip of her index finger along my jaw. “But for you I might make an exception…”

And then, before I could come up with a witty retort or punch her in the nerve cluster on the inside of the thigh so I could roll away like I’d been planning to, the door burst open and Sumia came rushing in. And Lissa followed her. And Owain, and Cynthia. God bless anime tropes, this was even better than I’d been planning. Deciding to take advantage of this moment I unclenched my fist, which had been primed to strike, and relaxed into the floor.

“Lucina are you okay!? We heard you scream and-”

“Dammit, Sumia, you cock-blocking bitch, get out!” I shouted before Lucina could say anything.

Sumia’s jaw dropped and she froze, her eyes wide as dinner plates.

“No!” Lucina shrieked, jumping off me and blushing to her roots. “It… it’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, come on, you two haven’t been fooling anyone,” Lissa scoffed.

“Sis… just… ew…” Cynthia recoiled. “At least use a bed.”

Owain just stared, transfixed, for a moment before spinning on his heel and marching woodenly out of the room, blushing to his ears.

“Come on, Sumia, let’s leave these two be,” Lissa laughed, grabbing her catatonic sister-in-law by the elbow and leading her and Cynthia out. 

“You’ve got it all wrong!” Lucina wailed, following them out without even putting her boots back on.

I just lay there on the floor for a moment before I sat up with a huff.

“Guess I gotta do the paperwork on my own now,” I mumbled, climbing to my feet. “Meh. Worth it. Don’t fuck with the master, Princess. Merry fucking Christmas. Nagamas. Whatever.”

* * *

 

Turns out it hadn’t been worth it, because what would have taken Robin maybe twenty minutes ended up taking me three hours and a bottle of scotch. It had been one of the smaller bottles, but our booze supplies were beginning to run dangerously low. I had also missed dinner, and being that Basilio and Flavia were still shit-faced they had opted to carefully split my dinner between themselves. I mean that literally. Morgan told me later about how they both got down to the table’s level and began to measure their portions exactly off my plate.

Not only had I missed dinner, I’d missed watching Basilio and Flavia make fools of themselves _while fucking cooperating for once_.

“This goddamn holiday is ruining my life,” I muttered, staggering through the halls that evening, looking for either someone to beat up or something to eat.

“Oh gawds, are you drunk again!?”

And finding neither, apparently.

“Severa. Go away,” I grunted, doing my best to ignore her.

“Well excuse me for living!” the volatile redhead snapped. “I bet you’d be happy to see my mother, wouldn’t you!?”

“No, because she berates me for drinking too much, too!” I defended. “Only she does it quietly. It actually makes me feel guilty. Not the point. I’m tired, drunk, and hungry. Either feed me or go away.”

“Well I was going to offer you these cookies, but now I don’t know if I want to,” Severa huffed. “Not because I was worried you didn’t have dinner, though! I’m just not that hungry!”

“Severa you beautiful, angelic, amazing woman you,” I said, finally looking up. “Marry… me?”

I blinked. Something was off. Something was different…

“You let your hair down?” I asked, quirking my head.

Severa clicked her tongue in annoyance, shoving a small, cute bag of cookies into my chest and blushing. For a moment I thought Cordelia had been doing an impression of her daughter again or something, but the Wing Commander didn’t have the frown lines on her face. She looked good, though. The long hair framed her face in a way her mother’s didn’t, and it was actually far longer than Cordelia’s, too, reaching almost down to her knees.

“Yeah, so what?” Severa snapped. “Shut up and take the damn cookies!”

“You sure you want me to shut up and not tell you how good you look with your hair down?” I asked, grinning.

Severa froze for a moment before blushing and doing the patented tsundere move of huffing, crossing her arms and looking away before she spoke. “I… I guess you could, if you wanted. No, I’m allowing you to compliment me, so you better be grateful! And do it right!”

“You look good, Sev,” I said, stepping closer and popping a cookie into my mouth. “You make almost all other women look like crap by comparison, second only to Morgan, and I’m a little biased there. And your cookies aren’t bad, either.”

“You lose points for saying all that with your mouth full,” she sighed. “But that was adequate.”

“So how’d practice go?” I asked with a shrug.

“Fine, thanks,” Severa snapped.

I quirked a brow, waiting. Severa just rolled her eyes, sighing. “It’s… mother’s so… nitpicky about everything! I make one little mistake and we have to stop and start again! Or those comments on my playing posture! How does she sit so perfectly straight!? I have to lean forward to see what I’m doing! I don’t know how Brady’s putting up with it! It’s like, ‘I’m sorry I had better things to do with my time in the future aside from play the damn lute, how careless of me’. I don’t see Olivia giving Inigo such a hard time! They’re having the time of their lives!”

“Wow, it sounds almost like your mother’s a perfectionist,” I said sarcastically when she was finished.

“You know what? Give me back those cookies,” Severa growled.

“Fuck no,” I laughed, popping another into my mouth. “She’s just worried about everyone else enjoying their night. She’s not being hard on you, she’s being hard on herself and that’s kinda spilling over. You want to make life easier? Bring her a cup of tea, sit with her and talk for a little while, chill her out. Best do it now before tomorrow’s festivities, or she’ll be a wreck. And enjoy Christmas morning with her, even if there’s no presents.”

“Do you mean ‘Nagamas’?”

“Fuck the little differences between our cultures, you know what I meant.”

Severa gave a thoughtful sound as she absently ran her hands through her hair, frowning and staring into space. I took the moment to lean back against the wall and pop another cookie into my mouth, grinning. They were simple cookies, the kind that one would have learned to make with limited resources in a dystopian future, but clearly she’d put a lot of effort into them. They were little Christmas tree shortbreads. Tasty.

“How do you know it’ll work?” Severa finally asked, her voice small.

I barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? Trust me, just do it. Aside from Sumia and your father no one knows your mother better! Fuck, I almost _was_ your father!”

Whoops, probably the wrong thing to say, but I was drunk…

To my surprise, however, I was not treated to one of Severa’s patented Tsundere Meltdowns. Her lip quivered for a moment as she broke into a grin, then the walls came down and she burst into laughter so hard she had to put a hand on my shoulder to hold herself up.

“Oh, hey, wow, fuck you I’m taking these cookies back,” I huffed.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t see you… and mother…” Severa started, her words lost to her peals of laughter again as she turned to lean next to me against the wall, clearly too exhausted from laughing at me to stand on her own. “She’s just so much… taller than you! And you sw-swear so much and she’s so… so…”

Further peals of laughter exploded from the redhead as she almost collapsed in her laughter. It was rare, seeing her smile so unguarded like this. As far as I know Noire and Lucina were the only others that had seen this side of her. Her whole face lit up, totally different to her mother’s. Cordelia was always smiling, always glowing, but Severa was like a firework, blazing bright and colorful before fading away back into her tsundere shell. Seeing her smile with her hair down, though? This was a unique moment. Like spotting a unicorn or the Loch Ness Monster. Or a unicorn riding the Loch Ness Monster to a Pantera reunion tour. I would burn this sight into my brain for the rest of my life.

“We’ve been friends for years,” I countered, grinning a little myself. “If I hadn’t gotten drunk and friend-zoned myself…”

“I’m glad you did, though,” Severa said with a sidelong grin. “You make a better friend than a father.”

“Oh, underhanded compliments now,” I smirked. “There’s the Severa we all know and love.”

“Yeah, you’d better love me,” Severa smirked. “I make the best damn cookies here.”

“Morgan makes the best damn cookies here. You’re a close second.”

“You have an unfair bias, you just admitted it earlier,” Severa huffed, crossing her arms and still grinning. “In any case, I’m going to go and find some tea and bring it to my mother before she worries herself to death. Seeing as you’re so worried about it. I’m doing this for you, you got it!?”

“Yeah, yeah, go on, then,” I yawned. “I’m worn out from dealing with all this holiday cheer all day anyway. Go spend quality family time or… whatev… er…”

I trailed off as Severa leaned up, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you, and Happy Nagamas,” she said, looking away with a strong blush.

She then spun on her heel and stomped off down the hall towards the stairs to the kitchens, totally ignoring me. I made a thoughtful sound of my own, popping another of the quickly dwindling cookies into my mouth before bouncing off the wall and continuing on my way to my room.

“Wonder if they have mistletoe here?” I wondered aloud.

* * *

 

And so it was that Nagamas morning came, and Morgan dragged my sorry carcass out of bed at the crack of dawn, as was tradition. Apparently. We were spending Nagamas with Tharja, Robin, Noire and Daraen, my odd, messed up little family, while the various other familial groups did their own similar things.

We passed Virion, Cherche and Gerome on the way out of the room, all laughter and smiles and _holy fuck Gerome was smiling without his mask on was I still dreaming!?_

“C’mon, Dad, the others are waiting!” Morgan said, pulling me along as I froze.

Gerome glanced up at me, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, and flashed me a grin. Then we were out in the hallway, and I was left to wonder what foul sorcery this holiday concocted.

Because Morgan and Daraen had wanted to score some extra ‘good boy and girl’ points with their various parents we had relented the apartment and the kids, and with Lissa and Sumia’s little gaggle’s help had set up in one of the various random sitting rooms that were crammed into empty space during the palace’s construction. She stopped in front of one door seemingly at random, a big green wreath hanging on it as if to say ‘welcome to holidays hell’, and she grinned that adorable little grin at me. The one that would make me light myself on fire if she asked. That one. C’mon, fathers know the face. I’m not the only one.

“Wait here a minute,” she said, before disappearing inside and shutting the door in my face.

After a few moments of muted speaking on the other side the door opened again, a confused-looking Daraen being shoved out by three or four sets of hands before the door slammed closed again. It all happened so fast I couldn’t count them. Judging from the look on the boy’s face he had no idea what was going on, either. Gripped in his hands were a couple of classic Santa hats, and he shrugged, holding one out to me.

“Guess we’re supposed to wear these?” he said, grinning a little.

“What fresh hell is going on behind that door?” I groaned, accepting the hat as Daraen pulled his on.

“No idea,” he shrugged. “All we were supposed to be doing was decorating.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Call whatever you want, I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!”

“I don’t!”

“Liar! You’re banging my daughter, you gotta know something!”

“What!? Ew, that’s gross! Morgan and I are just friends-”

“MY DAUGHTER IS ADORABLE YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU WOULD BE LUCKY TO HAVE HER!”

The ladies chose that exact point to open the door, coming face to face with me strangling the life out of Robin’s son.

“Please don’t kill my son on Nagamas,” Robin laughed, prompting me to release him.

“You get a stay of execution, boy,” I hissed dangerously as we both turned to the room.

Robin, Tharja, Morgan and Noire were all standing arrayed for us to see, and all in Christmasy, Nagamasy, festive outfits. Robin had found or made a replica of her coat in bright red trimmed with white fur, baubles hanging off it like she was a tree, and was wearing big thick red gloves. Morgan and Noire both wore more familiar Santa mini-dresses and Santa hats, the kind of get up you’d see in an anime Christmas episode. Judging from Morgan’s more confident pose as Noire cowered behind her just a little the younger sister was far more comfortable with the outfits. Which just left Tharja, bunched up entirely under her cloak, the only red showing being the blush on her face.

“Surprise!” Morgan cheered, pulling us inside. “Since we couldn’t get any presents because of the weather we decided, ‘hey, we’ll be the presents’! What do you think?”

I laughed, wrapping Morgan and Noire in one arm each, planting a kiss on both of their foreheads. “I think you both look great. Nice coat, Robin. What, too shy for the dress?”

“I think it looks great, mother!” Daraen said excitedly, focusing on her and doing his best to hide the blush he was getting from seeing Morgan and Noire’s exposed legs and cleavage.

“We had time while I was out for the last week,” Robin laughed, patting her son’s head. “The girls made the outfits in my room to keep me company.”

“Aw, you’re such sweeties,” I cooed, giving both another kiss and earning an embarrassed giggle from Morgan as Noire desperately tried to hide her satisfied grin.

“What about you, Tharja?” I asked, looking up. “Not getting into the festive spirit? Hell, even I’m wearing the stupid hat.”

“Hey, I made that hat!” Morgan pouted.

“Hell, even I’m wearing the amazing hat,” I corrected myself.

“Come on, Tharja, we all did it,” Robin urged. “And you’re the one that decided on the outfit, not us.”

“This is beyond mortifying…” she muttered, turning her back on us and rummaging around beneath her cloak.

Morgan and I had to suppress our laughter, because Tharja had pinned a piece of paper with the word ‘mortification’ written on it in big, thick letters to the back of her cloak. Daraen quirked his head questioningly as Noire let out a small sigh. Robin, though, looked strangely excited right now, and…

Tharja leaned forward, putting a pair of little toy antlers on her head before spinning back to us with a big cheery smile on her face, arms spread wide to showcase her Christmas outfit. Or rather, lack-there-of. It was closer to a Christmas bikini, a decorated bright red bikini with little strips of white fur.

My jaw dropped, and Daraen let out a little over-stimulated squeak. Or that could have been me. The kid could have passed out for all I knew, because I was utterly entranced. I don’t think I need to remind you all that Tharja was one of the most beautiful women in the Shepherds, and her body was absolutely perfect. Not toned like the fighters, but soft and supple, and dear sweet lord this bikini covered none of it.

Of course the spell was broken when she started to speak…

“Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!” she laughed, smiling and spinning. “What a lovely holiday! What marvelous decorations and splendid costumes! We should be thankful for everyone being here together on such an important day!”

My jaw dropped again. Goddamn ‘normal mode’ Tharja had made her return.

“Why, tis such an important day I made breakfast for all of us!” she went on. “With the help of my darling little girl! Right Noire-y-poo? Little Morgan even helped!”

“Oh dear sweet Naga please strike me dead where I stand,” Noire muttered, closing her eyes.

“This is the greatest day of my life,” Morgan whispered, a huge smile on her face.

“What…” was all a flabbergasted Daraen managed before Tharja moved on.

“And Robin, I just adore your coat! What a merry sound it must make!” Tharja continued, sashaying over to the tactician and giving the coat a little shake so that the bells and baubles hanging off of it jingled. Robin stood, clenching her fists and biting her lip as she desperately tried not to laugh.

Of course this proved to be too much for Robin, and she stepped back from Tharja, doubling over as she burst out laughing. Noire and Morgan let out a collective sigh, politely averting their eyes. Daraen just stood, slack-jawed and staring at the alabaster skin showing between the- dammit Ben, focus!

“Tharja,” I called.

She spun to me, her big sunny smile lighting up her face. Except her eyes seemed almost desperate, just like last time. “Why yes, Ben, my dear-”

“I want you to hex Robin so she stops laughing.”

This made her freeze, Robin barely glancing up before exploding into fresh peals of laughter. Tharja fidgeted a moment before smiling again.

“I… I fear I have no idea what you’re talking-”

“Tharja, it’s Christmas-”

“Nagamas,” Morgan interjected.

“Oh fuck off,” I snapped to a victorious chuckle. “Tharja. It’s Nagamas, and this is my present for you. For the next twenty-four hours all bets are off. As my Nagamas gift to you I’m repealing my ban on hexing any of the Shepherds, but only if you go back to ‘Classic Tharja’ right damn now. And no death hexes.”

Her face fell for a moment before slowly lighting up in a very genuine, very terrifying smile. “I’ll go get my tools!”

And with that she was gone, racing back towards our apartment in a flash of creamy skin, bright red bikini and black cloak.

“Merry Christmas, Virion,” I muttered, grinning as I imagined the archer’s reaction to seeing so much of Tharja. And then Gerome’s reaction. And then Cherche’s reaction as she fed both of them to Minerva.

“Okay, ladies and dingus, I prepared for this eventuality,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a handful of talismans. “These are consecrated coins from the Church of Naga. Anti-hex wards. She can hex everyone else to her heart’s content, but for fuck’s sake Robin, stop laughing.”

She just proceeded to laugh harder, falling onto her back and rolling around on the floor. I let out a sigh, waiting for Robin to stop laughing as the three kids just kind of sitting there, but before that could happen…

“WHAT IN NAGA’S NAME ARE YOU WEARING!?”

There was a moment of silence, even Robin stopping as we all exchanged glances.

“Was that… Virion?” Morgan asked.

“Hope you kids didn’t like Uncle Virion,” I said with a grin.

“Oh,” Robin snickered. “Oh you evil… evil man you…”

Virion shouted something unintelligible, followed by Gerome’s deep voice shouting as well. Then there were racing footsteps and screaming as the two men ran down the hallway.

“I did nothing wrong! How was I supposed to know she would come into the room!?”

“Mother! Put down the axe! Mother, please!”

“Dearest you would look much better than her in that outfit! I swear! Stop, that one almost ruined my hair!”

“Father you are not helping!”

The only response to their pleas was bone-chilling laughter, the likes of which I’d only heard from Cherche once or twice before. Once was when Virion spilled wine on her wedding dress. The other was… well, I think that time Virion had suggested a three-way.

Eventually the screaming grew distant, leaving us standing in silence watching the door.

“Well, damn. I wish I had’ve planned that,” I sighed. “Oh well, happy coincidences. Didn’t Tharja say something about breakfast? All this commotion’s made me hungry. Ooh, pancakes.”

* * *

 

So, after an eventful Nagamas morning and a light lunch came time for the festivities.

Owing to the fact that they had not been able to hold the big fancy ball, Chrom and Sumia had turned our low-key party into a full-blown dinner and drinks affair. Which, in my experience, is never a good idea. Because there’s food in peoples’ stomachs to puke up when they’re drunk, and given the way these idiots drink it wouldn’t be long. But my warnings went unheeded, and we were all sat down at the giant banquet table, piled high with foods. Turkey, roast ham, smaller birds like chickens and pheasants, various salads (I was eyeballing the potato salad, Chrom’s chef made a mean potato salad) and enough wine and ale to drown a fish. But probably still wasn’t enough to make Flavia and Basilio pass out.

“What are those two made out of…?” I asked, marveling at their constitutions.

As the room watched they grabbed a pitcher of wine each and upended them, seeing who could drink their pitcher first. Flavia won, but only by seconds. Basilio’s punishment for losing was to drink a second pitcher and I was starting to feel drunk just watching them. For his part, Vaike let out a weak little moan and ducked his head under the table. Judging from the way Miriel jumped a little he had hidden in her robes.

“I think it’s good for them to let loose like this,” Chrom grinned. “They don’t get the chance often. Besides, keeping them drunk is better than rebuilding my palace.”

He then turned a frosty glare on me from the corner of his eye. “However I suppose I should caution about letting _too_ loose that people forget about propriety.”

“She came on to me, and I swear if you start hitting on Morgan I’ll beat you to death with your wife,” I warned.

“Boys, it’s meant to be a festive party,” Sumia huffed from between us. “Play nice. Dear, Lucina is an adult and is free to make her own mistakes. Ben, I… uh… behave.”

“Yes, dear…”

“Hey, I’m not a goddamn mistake-”

“Ben…”

“I’d be the best damn son-in-law you could ever-”

“ _Behave._ ”

“Yes, Sumia…”

Across the table Lucina glared at me with a blush, pointedly jamming her knife into the tabletop. To my great amusement, Chrom and Sumia ignored this.

Dinner was basically the circus I was expecting it to be. Clearly Sumia had been expecting it, too, because we were eating off the dishes that the servants would have used. Which was a good thing, because as soon as they were done eating Flavia, Basilio, Gregor and Lon’qu automatically picked up their plates and smashed them in the fireplace. This didn’t go over well with Lissa, who tore into her husband Lon’qu like he had the turkey leg he’d eaten earlier.

It was nice, having everyone together like this, though. Well, okay, it was bedlam, but bedlam like a good Christmas gathering should be. Thoroughly satisfied that I’d gotten what I wanted I leaned back in my chair, looking for a mop of white hair along the table.

“Yo, Henry!” I called.

The mage in question leaned back in his own chair, a manic smile on his face as he fiddled with some of the bones from the nearest chicken carcass.

“Yes’m?” he asked.

“You can call off the storm now,” I told him.

The Dark Mage let out a cackle, rocking back and forth before frowning. “But nobody’s died yet!”

“What, the sheer level of human suffering not good enough for you?” I smirked.

“I suppose,” he sighed. “Alright, I’ll cancel the weather curse. But you still owe me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved dismissively, turning back to the table.

Only to find it had gone silent, and everyone was looking at me with astonishment in their eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Did… did you… orchestrate the blizzard?” Sumia asked haltingly.

“Yes?” I said, quirking my head. “Why?”

“Unbelievable…” Lucina groaned, hiding her face in her hand.

“You really… why!?” Chrom asked in his shock.

“I don’t like the other nobles,” I shrugged. “Besides, isn’t it more fun if it’s just us?”

“Hell yeah it is!” Sully shouted, hefting an overflowing tankard.

“Yeah, sorry Chrom but your Court is boring as watching grass grow,” Flavia slurred, grinning as she leaned on Basilio’s shoulder.

“Ylissean grass,” the other Khan agreed with a sagely nod. “Which grows a lot slower than Feroxi grass.”

“While I appreciate your reasoning I do not approve of you hexing my nation,” Chrom sighed.

“Ah, cursing,” I corrected. “Hexes only affect people or things. Henry used a curse. I had to promise he could have my body after I died to get him to do it, too. Just so we could spend the holidays as one big, dysfunctional family.”

“Don’t lie, you already said you didn’t like the nobility,” Lucina snapped.

“Oh, that was just the frosting,” I grinned. “What, didn’t you enjoy spending time with your family for Nagamas, Princess?”

I jumped a little as Chrom stabbed his own knife into the table beside me, chuckling nervously. “Speaking of families, I think I’m going to go spend time with mine. Over there. Thanks for the food!”

Maybe I had pushed a little too hard this time…

And with that I beat a hasty retreat, wondering why they were so pissed off. I mean, all they did was bitch and moan about the nobility, you’d think they would thank me for that, but no apparently I get to be the bad guy.

As conversation picked up again and dinner wound down Cordelia rose before we could all spread out too much, looking far calmer than she had for the last few days, and clapped her hands. “And now, for tonight’s entertainment!”

The group gave a raucous cheer as the performers rose and made for the pile of instruments in the corner, Inigo and Olivia disappearing as the musicians began to tune their instruments. A few minutes later they returned, both wearing fun, Christmassy versions of their usual performing clothes. We all watched raptly for quite some time, even Basilio and Flavia settling down to enjoy the show, and before we knew it nearly an hour had gone by. Panting and covered with a thin sheen of perspiration Olivia stepped forward with a knowing grin.

“And now, for a surprise! Girls?”

We all turned to mutter amongst ourselves until Morgan and Noire rose, sheepishly taking to the stage in their Christmas dresses. A cheer went up from the Shepherds, and Morgan gave me a little wink and a wave as Noire tried to erase her presence from existence.

“Dad always used to sing for us on Nagamas, so… We’re gonna sing!” she announced cheerily.

The roar of approval from such a small group was awe inspiring, and only died down when Cordelia, Severa and Brady began to play. Then I watched as Morgan and Noire regaled us with Christmas songs. And I don’t mean Nagamas songs, I mean honest-to-god Christmas songs, from my own world. _Silent Night, White Christmas, Jingle Bells, All I Want for Christmas_ … all songs I had apparently taught them. I sniffled at some point, not even aware I was tearing up, and Robin reached over and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

As the girls sang the last words of _Joy to the World_ and the musician trio played their last notes, the crowd practically exploded, Morgan and Noire both blushing at the attention and grinning furiously.

“So, we had to teach them these songs!” Morgan called out, getting everyone’s attention again, “But there’s one more that Dad didn’t know we’d heard him sing!”

“I’m not singing it,” Noire stated plainly.

“Dad, you come and sing it!” Morgan called out.

I froze up. It was a well-known fact that I couldn’t sing at all. In the slightest. In fact, I was amazed either of the girls could sing. They must have gotten it from their mothers. But what song could I possibly…

“He looks a little shy, why don’t we get started and maybe he can join in?” Morgan laughed.

Then, to further cheering, a very familiar tune started to come from Cordelia, Severa and Brady. A tune that made me wonder how Morgan had managed to convince them to play this one. I rolled my eyes, grinning a little as I went over the lyrics in my head and took to the impromptu little stage.

“You two are helping out with the chorus,” I said, leaning down to Morgan and Noire before turning back to the audience.

And for the first time in a hella long time, I started to sing.

_“There ain't nothing more depressing than a pine tree_

_Gussied up candy canes and balls_

_Those carolers have kept me up for hours_

_It's Merry Christmas seeping through my walls_

_Now I'm no Wiccan commie nut or nothing_

_But there's one damn holiday that I can't stand_

_It ain't Halloween or Thanksgiving or even April Fools_

_But it'll surely make a fool out of every man_

_HA!_

_So if I ain't drunk then it ain't Christmas_

_You know where to stick those jingle bells_

_If I ain't hammered it ain't Hanukkah_

_Fa la la la la go fuck yourself!_

_If I ain't cockeyed it ain't Kwanzaa_

_Joy to the world of getting stoned_

_If I ain't drunk then it ain't Christmas_

_So leave this god damn scrooge the fuck alone_

_HA!_

_MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!”_


	4. Metallover's Self Insert Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A half-Valentines, half-birthday-present-for-my-baby-brother story. Because I'm a nice guy like that. No, seriously, happy birthday baby bro. This was your present. Hope you like it. Love you, man. No homo.   
> And a very happy Valentine’s Day to all the couples out there reading this story about a salty single man! Hope y’all have a good day. And good sex. Have fun, you crazy kids, but don’t forget to use protection. I’m looking at you, S&J. You know who you are.

Ah, Valentine’s Day.

As a younger man it was a day consistently up there in my most hated days, along with any athletic event during school and the day before pay day. I know it may be hard to believe this, but I was for a very long time a member of the ‘forever alone’ crowd. I hated Valentine’s Day because no one ever gave me any chocolates or flowers or cards, not even of the pity variety. I know, I know, ‘what a salty fuck, go have a cry’ right?

But Valentine’s always had a little saving grace that the school athletic events didn’t until I got a car and could simply skip those days. The day before payday still sucks, though. But I digress.

Valentine’s Day also has the distinction of being my baby brother’s birthday.

So rather than focus on the fact that I was an ugly fucking chode in high school that no women so much as glanced at, I could focus on the pizza and the cake that would be waiting for me at home. I mean, for my brother, but I got the periphery so there was still pizza and cake.

Heh. Damn near thirty and the thought of pizza and cake is still one of the most exciting things there is…

However, after a number of years in Ylisse I had all but forgotten about my own birthday, let alone my brother’s. We had been busy. Busy fighting wars or building a kingdom or, in my own case, reforming the army into something that worked. But once that was done, once Grima was gone and we were all left sitting there wondering ‘what now’ I was confronted again by Valentine’s Day, and my brother’s birthday.

And the fact that I was a very, very long way away from home.

I always found it funny that Ylisse had so many coinciding holidays to match our own. Nagamas to replace Christmas, Grima’s Fall to replace the Easter long weekend (which was pretty much the same thing, the Ylisseans just celebrated the death of Grima over one glorious four-day-weekend of drinking and feasting), and the newest addition: Saint Emmeryn’s Day.

Yup. At some point while I hadn’t been paying attention Emmeryn had been canonized and given her own day of celebration. February fourteenth. A day to celebrate the loving and caring side of the Ylissean saint. By giving flowers and chocolates to your loved ones or people you love, forgiving your enemies and living in harmony with the world for one beautiful day.

I figured if I was going to be remembered for a day it may as well be something like this. Or Saint Patrick’s Day. I’d prefer a ‘Ben Day’ to be like Saint Patty’s. Drink til you puke then drink some more.

Again, though, I digress. Saint Emmeryn’s Day, the Ylissean stand-in for Valentine’s, was just around the corner, which was how I found myself in the worst kind of harem-anime hell I could ever imagine…

* * *

 

For the last week leading up to the day the ladies around me had been acting weird. Despite the fact we had the full roster, including a bunch of the spot pas characters just to confuse me and stress me way the fuck out during recruitment missions, a lot of the Shepherds were still single. And the child characters were being hella-tight-lipped about who their parents were. I mean, I knew who everyone’s mothers were, but there was a lot of ‘I’m not telling you who my dad is’ going on. So on days like Emmeryn’s Day I liked to sit back and watch for signs of blossoming romance.

Or I had, before we’d beaten the main story and I had nothing to do _except_ watch for signs of blossoming romance day in and day out.

However, Emmeryn’s Day also fell on the fourteenth here in Ylisse, too, which meant my brother’s birthday. I missed my brother. I’ll admit that. The fact that I was still here in Ylisse while he was back home or god knows where made me a little sad.

So, like any good idiot would, I drank myself into a stupor the previous evening to get myself over the hump and into today. I had planned to spend the entire day blasted, but as I cracked open my eyes and beheld the clutch of bottles on my bedside table, all full of amber liquid and waiting patiently for me, I let out a piteous groan and rolled back over in bed.

The fourteenth just so conveniently fell on a Sunday this year, so all my hung-over brain was telling me was ‘go the fuck back to sleep’, advice I wholly planned on following.

Until I heard the sound of my door creaking open.

Which was amplified by the pounding in my head, eliciting another small groan from me as I curled up into the fetal position.

As always, my maid Elle had terrible timing…

As I curled up tighter and wished I could just die I felt a warm hand resting atop my head, someone giving a small chuckle at my suffering before my blankets were lifted and a very small form crawled into bed behind me.

“Nowi…” I groaned the name like a curse.

“Good morning,” the deceptively little manakete whispered, her husky voice and wandering hands leaving no doubt to what she was here for.

“Nowi, I am hungover and dying,” I practically sobbed.

“A little… exercise will make you feel better,” she promised.

“Just the word is making me want to puke,” I warned her.

With a sigh I rolled, my eyes just barely open to slits so that I wouldn’t have to behold the cheery Spring morning sunlight that streamed through the windows. No doubt Elle had thought she was being helpful by opening them for me… Nowi scooted back, her lime colored hair already a mess atop the cheeky grin she wore. A grin that made her look even younger; despite the fact she was a very ‘experienced’ thousand-year-old dragon she still looked like someone that had just hit puberty.

And she was currently in my bed wearing what looked to be nothing but a pair of bright red ribbons wrapped around her chest and hips and that cheeky little smile.

“Oh Nowi what the fuck,” I groaned, falling back onto my pillow.

“Today’s a special day!” she chirped, bouncing a little. “The others told me that today is a day we’re supposed to give gifts like chocolate and flowers and stuff to the people we love!”

“So why are you dressed like that, then?” I almost didn’t ask.

Nowi gave an adorable little huff, crossing her arms over her almost-non-existent bust and pouting.

“Because they didn’t tell me until last night! So I had to improvise!” she explained, jumping up on the bed. “I’m your present! Be gentle when you unwrap me…”

She said the last part in a sultry tone, giving a little wink for emphasis. I looked at her, gobsmacked for a moment before I decided ‘nope’ and rolled over, taking the blankets with me. And, by lieu of the fact she was standing atop said blankets, sending Nowi tumbling off the bed to the floor.

“Ow! Hey, that was mean you big jerk!” Nowi shouted, each word like a hammer-blow to my head.

“Leave me alone and let me die in peace!” I snapped back, holding my head. “No means no! I do not consent! I do not consent!”

With a growl Nowi climbed back on top of me, straddling me with both hands on my shoulder. Before she could do whatever it was she was planning, though, I rolled again, flipping the blanket up over top of her. Then, because I was in a bad mood, I grabbed the corners of the blanket and tied them all together while she was still flailing around trying to right herself. My work done, I left a very irritated manakete on my bed wrapped up in my blanket as I grabbed a shirt and beat a hasty retreat.

If she transformed to get out of the blankets I wanted to be a long, long way away…

I closed the door behind me, cutting off Nowi’s muffled cries of protest, and leaned back against it with a sigh. Morgan and Noire were both waiting in the common room of the barracks that we all shared, both girls perking up as I spotted them.

“Good morning, dad!” Morgan cheered, jumping to her feet.

“Argh, not so loud I’m dyin’ here!” I groaned, sinking down the door a little.

“Oop! Sorry!” Morgan laughed. “But today’s special, so we wanted to be the first ones to-”

Whatever else she was about to say was lost in the loud roar and crash from inside my room, and I leapt off the door like it was on fire. Which, given Now’s tendency towards property damage when she transforms, it very well could have been.

“Hold that thought, honey,” I said, already running from the room.

And leaving my two very confused daughters to deal with an almost-naked and very upset Nowi coming out of my wrecked room in frustrated tears.

* * *

 

I shivered, rubbing some warmth back into my arms as I stalked the corridors of the Palace looking for some breakfast. I had neglected to grab a jacket in my haste to escape from Nowi, and had been forced to walk through town in naught but my shirt. Which was cold, considering it was still mid-Spring. It wasn’t snowing any more, but it did get a wee bit nippy, and my high-beams were in danger of putting someone’s eye out.

Before I did anything else I snuck into the Royal Guards’ barracks at the front of the palace and stole the first jacket I spotted, pulling it on before sauntering back out into the great hall. The jacket was a little tight across the shoulders, but with shoulders like mine that’s pretty common.

It was still early, with a mess of maids and butlers running around getting the place ready for the day. A number of the immaculately presented Royal Guard, wearing the same dress uniform jacket that I was no less, were stationed at various points along the hall. They stared straight ahead, their ceremonial halberds and shields held at perfect angles. Think the Buckingham Palace guards, but wearing blue and without the stupid hats.

A few of the older Guards gave me little conspiratorial smirks, one even brave enough to offer a wink. This wasn’t the first time I’d snagged one of their jackets, and a few had taken to keeping a spare on hand just in case.

I gave a yawn, not even bothering to cover my face with my hand as I strode boldly up the hall. I figured I’d take the official hallways up to the Royal Apartments. It was a little longer than taking the servant corridors, but at this time of the morning they’d be packed and I didn’t feel like playing ‘dodge the maid’.

“Oi! You! What do you think you’re doing!?”

I kept walking, smirking at the thought of some poor young maid getting chewed out. Because I’m a bastard like that. But I was stopped by a firm grip on my shoulder and spun around to come face to face with an older woman I’d never met before. Usually Laseta, the Royal Head Maid who had now served three generations of Chrom’s family, would be the one running the show.

This lady was new.

At first I thought I could have a little fun with this. Until she slapped me across the face.

“You stop when I speak to you!” she shrieked in my face. “Look at you! You are one of Exalt Chrom’s Royal Guard, and you look atrocious! You haven’t shaved, and your jacket is open and… gods above, do I smell whiskey!? How dare you besmirch your post as such!?”

By now my eyebrow was about halfway up my forehead, and a few of the actual Royal Guard had begun to snicker. All of the maids and butlers had stopped work, too, some watching in fascinated horror while a few of the younger ones looked on with barely contained mirth.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” I asked calmly.

“I don’t care if you’re Lord Exalt Roland risen from the grave! Go get yourself cleaned up before I give you a flogging to wipe that smirk off your face!” she snarled, spittle flying into my face.

“Okay, I think a little demonstration is in order…”

With an overly-dramatic sigh I lifted my hand above my head, the one with the ring that Chrom had given me to mark me as his retainer, and clicked my fingers twice. It was about the point that I pointed down at the woman that she spotted the ring and went pale. When the two Royal Guard appeared at her sides, each grabbing an arm, her jaw dropped.

“See to it she cleans every privy and chamber pot in the palace,” I instructed the two guards. “Start at the top, work your way down. The only one who supersedes this order is Chrom. Comprende?”

“Right away, Lord General, Sir,” one of them answered, struggling to keep a straight face.

I ignored her sputtering apologies as she was dragged away, turning instead to the crowd of cheering maids and butlers. The Royal Guards, to a man, were doubled over with laughter. I grinned myself for a moment, feeling a whole lot better now, before coming to a parade rest stance.

“Right, you lot know your jobs! Get it done!” I said in my ‘general voice’ before singling out one of the maids. “You. Come here.”

She scurried up to me as the rest of the staff resumed their duties, bright sunny smiles on their faces, and dropped a perfect curtsey. She was maybe thirty, her plain face unassuming and her long brown hair pinned up beneath her bonnet.

“Milord?”

“What’s your name?”

“Brooke, milord.”

“Where’s Laseta, Brooke?”

“She’s taken ill, milord,” Brooke answered quickly. “It’s why Lady Felicity was brought in from the Exalt’s Summer Home on the Southern Coast.”

“She important?” I asked.

“No, milord,” Broke answered, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. “In fact, she’s been getting in our way all week. Couldn’t do nothing right by her. Thanks for setting her straight.”

“I do so love putting assholes in their place,” I smirked. “What about Laseta? Has anyone seen to her?”

“Wouldn’t let no one, sir,” Brooke said with a worried sigh. “She’s been bedridden for days now…”

“Okay then. What were you doing out here?” I asked, digging around my pockets.

“I was dusting the sconces, sir.”

“Fuck it, not important,” I said, pulling out a gold coin from my pocket. “Take this to Tharja’s Workshop on the outskirts of the Merchant Quarter. Tell her Ben wants a potion to cure a cold, don’t leave ‘til it’s done. On your way back I want you to buy enough pastries for all the servants. Y’all do good work, happy Emmeryn’s Day. Now hop to it!”

“Yes, milord!” Brooke said, snatching the coin, dropping another curtsey and darting off.

I stood for a moment, watching her go. I’d just handed over quite a lot of money, but still I hoped it would be enough to get pastries for everyone… Chrom had a lot of servants.

“Look at you, ya softie! Being all nice to the help like that. Didn’t think you were that kinda guy!”

I turned, glancing over my shoulder at a perfectly presented form of knightly virtue. Uniform pressed and practically shining it was so clean, armor polished to a mirror-sheen, medals and awards hanging off the breastplate… and all of it had been done by Sully’s husband Frederick.

“Sup, Sully?” I asked.

“That’s ‘Knight Commander Sully’ in front of the boys,” the red-haired woman smirked, coming down the stairs to the upper floor. “And didn’t my hubby tell you to stop stealing jackets from the Guards?”

After the Second Fall of Grima Frederick had surprised everyone by retiring, deciding to devote his time entirely to serving and guarding the royal family. He’d never admit it, but I was pretty sure Frederick had retired just to keep me away from little Lucina. Sully had been chosen as his replacement as Knight Commander, and despite some of the nobility muttering ‘favoritism’ she had excelled at the role. Even the clerical side of it, which was surprising to me.

“It was cold,” I shrugged. “You’re looking good today, by the way.”

 “Flatterer,” she snorted, giving me a playful shove. Which, coming from Sully, almost threw me off my feet. “It’s Saint Emmeryn’s Day. Gotta look good for the Lady, ya know?”

“Clearly not,” I scoffed, indicating my shabby appearance.

“Fredrick’s putting on breakfast upstairs,” Sully told me. “I gotta make sure that the Knights don’t skip their morning training, so I’ll see you later. But first, here.”

She shoved a small parcel into my hands, something wrapped in a delicate little red handkerchief.

“It’s some chocolate cookies,” Sully explained awkwardly, blushing a little. “To say thanks. For… stuff. Like helping us out. You’re welcome! I’m going now! And make sure you put that jacket back!”

“Aw, that was almost feminine of you, Sully!” I called after her.

My only response was a rude hand gesture which had only caught on thanks to my particular influence, the middle finger, over her armored shoulder. I laughed and shook my head, carefully unwrapping the cookies as I started up the stairs. There was only a few so they didn’t last long, but they were good. Frederick had probably made them, but it was the thought that counted.

* * *

 

I came into the Exalt’s Private Dining Room to the sight from a nightmare. An armless, life-size statue of Chrom, made entirely from chocolate sitting in the middle of the table. And it was well-done. Almost like looking at the man himself dipped in chocolate and dear lord there was a mental image I didn’t need… think of Sumia dipped in chocolate instead _think of Sumia dipped in chocolate instead…_

Let me elaborate: a _naked_ life-sized statue of Chrom.

“God I hope for Sumia’s sake that’s not anatomically correct,” I muttered, glancing at the chocolate sculpture’s crotch.

Frederick glanced up at the sound of my voice, dark rings around his eyes leaving no doubt to who had been up all night making this monstrosity. Over his usual beige suit he wore a brown-smeared apron, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Ben. Good morning,” the knight-butler greeted, eyes narrowing. “Didn’t I tell you to-”

“Stop stealing from the Royal Guards, yeah, yeah, Sully already beat you to that spiel,” I waved him off. “So what’s with the… uh… art?”

The big knight’s entire countenance changed at the question, Frederick practically swelling with pride as he rose to his full height.

“I created this to show Exalt Chrom the depths of my appreciation,” he explained, coming as close as I’d ever seen him to smiling. “It took nearly a week. But I finished in time this morning.”

“That is so fucked up,” I muttered to myself.

“Ah, I have some finishing touches to add,” Frederick went on. “Would you be so kind as to fetch milord for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I’m his retainer, same as you,” I said, waving the ring in front of him. “I don’t do bitch-work.”

“Yet you wear the clothes of a servant of House Ylisse?” Frederick pointed out.

“Fine,” I groaned. “But only because I want breakfast out of this deal, too.”

“Very well, I shall set you a seat,” Frederick relented.

“Preferably not one facing Chrom’s ass or junk,” I added as I walked to the door.

Frederick made a noncommittal grunt, which I decided to take as an affirmative. I slipped out of the dining room and almost immediately ran into Chrom. He had a look of great shame on his face. Clearly, someone had already peeked at Frederick’s gift.

“Breakfast is in the parlor,” he whispered immediately. “Sumia’s already there with Lucina and Lucy. I couldn’t let the girls see that… uh… that. I won’t say a damned word if you don’t.”

I fought as hard as I could to keep a straight face, patting the man on the shoulder and leaving him to suffer. As I left Chrom gave a deep sigh, clearly agonizing over how to accept Frederick’s creepy-ass gift while simultaneously making sure it didn’t happen again.

The parlor was pretty much just a sitting room, and when I got there Sumia and both Lucinas were already tucking into their breakfast. Lon’qu was there, too, nursing a cup of strong-smelling Feroxi tea on the opposite side of the room as the women, and offered me a terse nod in greeting.

“Ben!” the younger version of Lucina cried, setting down her cutlery and running over to me.

She hit my legs with the strength of a freight train, leaving no question to who her father was. Although I’d been punched by the time-travelling version of her, currently sighing and glaring at me, so I knew just how strong she was going to get, too...

“Heya, kiddo,” I laughed, patting her on the head. “Nice to see you, but don’t let Frederick see you doing that. Mind your manners.”

“I know,” the little girl groaned, spinning on her heel. “Sorry, mother. Sorry, big sis. I should have excused myself.”

“Atta girl,” I smiled, nudging her back towards the table with my foot.

“Do not kick me,” the older Lucina warned, eyes narrowing.

“Good morning, Ben,” Sumia said, clearly trying not to laugh. “I take it you came in through the dining room?”

“Honey, I hope that statue is not anatomically correct,” I laughed.

“It’s not,” Sumia laughed.

“What statue?” Lucina asked.

“I wanna be a statue!” Lucy added, climbing back up on her chair.

“Not like that you don’t,” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth, catching Lucina’s eye and grinning. “I’ll explain later.”

“Where’s big sis Morgan and big sis Noire?” Lucy asked, resuming her breakfast.

“Slaying dragons at the barracks,” I said, pulling up a seat. “Well, okay, they’re just placating Nowi, but… it’s kinda the same thing.”

“What did you do now?” Lucina sighed.

“It’s more of… what I didn’t do,” I said with an overt waggling of my eyebrows.

Lucina made a disgusted sound as Sumia sighed and shook her head. Lucy just quirked her head, looking from adult to adult.

“I don’t get it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t play with her because I feel sick,” I explained.

“You play with Nowi in the mornings? I wanna play, too!” Lucy pouted.

I snorted, barely containing my laughter at the glare that Lucina gave me.

“Uh, Lon’qu!” Sumia said quickly, changing the subject. “Where’s Lissa this morning?”

“Sleeping,” the stoic swordsman answered simply.

“Well, why don’t we go get her?” Sumia suggested.

“I got it,” I said, getting back up. “Have food ready for me when I get back.”

Before anyone could protest I stepped back out of the parlor, resting my back against the wall as soon as I was out of sight of the door. I let out a long, low sigh as I let my head droop, closing my eyes. I don’t really know why seeing such a scene of familial bliss was bugging me so much that day. I’d gotten through my brother’s birthday a bunch of times with no problems since coming to Ylisse, but this time, for some reason…

I rallied, slapping my cheeks and trying to force myself back into the slightly less moody place I usually kept my personality as I bounced my back off the wall and set off for Lissa and Lon’qu’s rooms. One didn’t spend as much time as me mooching off the Royal Family without learning where all their rooms were, and within barely a few minutes I was standing out front of my destination marveling once again just how goddamn big the palace was. I gave three sharp knocks on the door before calling out.

“Yo, squirt, you alive in there?”

An evil grin spread to my face as I heard the indignant huff even through the thick wooden door. Lissa threw the door open, wearing only her nightgown and an open yukata Say’ri had gifted her during one of many ‘cultural exchanges’, glaring up at me.

“Yes, and I swear to Naga if you just woke up Owain…” she hissed in a low voice.

“Okay, okay,” I whispered placatingly. “The others are just curious about what’s taking so long.”

Lissa gave a haggard sigh, running a hand through her messy golden hair. “He was up all night with a cold. I just got him to sleep. You can wait inside if you want, we’re letting the heat out and I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

I nodded, silently accepting the invitation and stepping into the room. It was surprisingly warm inside, and I found myself almost immediately fluttering my appropriated jacket to cool off. Lissa wasted no time, already across the room now wearing naught but her silken nightgown, the yukata thrown haphazardly across the back of the closest chair.

“Nice to see you’re comfortable around me,” I muttered, quirking a brow.

“Oh! Wait right there, I have something for you,” she called back in a low voice, clearly wary of waking baby-Owain.

I rolled my eyes, wandering slowly through the small common room and glancing at the detritus of life strewn about. Despite knowing where they were I made it a point to not spend too much time in the Royal Family’s rooms, after all. There was a sharpening and maintenance kit for bladed weapons spread out on the coffee table, clearly Lon’qu’s, and a number of letters from Regna Ferox were piled up around the edges. Lon’qu was the closest thing that Ylisse had to a Feroxi ambassador, so he’d gotten stuck dealing with the foreign correspondence.

Lissa reappeared, still only wearing her nightgown, carrying a bundle wrapped up in red paper.

“Okay, before this goes any further send someone to talk to the maid Brooke. She’s gone to Tharja’s to get a potion to help with the cold for Laseta, I’m sure there’ll be enough for Owain, too,” I sighed.

“Really? Wow, thanks!” Lissa sighed. “That will really help. I’ve been meaning to go see Tharja myself, but Lon and I have been too busy…”

“Great. Now what’s this?” I sighed. “Let me guess…”

“Yup! Chocolate!” Lissa beamed. “Frederick had a heap left over, so I made this for you.”

“Ah, so you know about Frederick’s ‘art’, then?” I smirked.

“Are you kidding? I’m the one that gave him the idea,” Lissa grinned cruelly.

“Damn. Once again you’ve outdone yourself, Princess,” I grinned. “I’m actually impressed. Take a bow.”

With that damn cheeky grin she stepped back, flourishing her hand before placing it over her stomach and giving a little bow. However, she trembled a little, wavering before falling forward into my chest with a little thud. I automatically caught her, arms wrapping around slim shoulders as Lissa gave a weak chuckle.

“Uh… sorry, guess I’m a little more tired than I thought,” she muttered. “I’m a little dizzy…”

“No problem, we’ll just get you onto a chair or something so you can rest,” I told her, glancing around the room for the nearest chair.

As I was looking around, holding the Princess of Ylisse, Chrom’s baby sister, in my arms, I noticed a draft of cool air behind me.

“Oh, hiya Lucy, Lon! Shhhhhh… Owain’s sleeping!” Lissa whispered with a delirious giggle.

My eyes went wide as panic set in. Lucina and Lon’qu were behind me. My arms were occupied holding Lissa up. A Lissa who was currently very scantily dressed by the lovely medieval Ylissean standards. Who also had her boobs pressed up against my chest, I finally realized.

Hurried, angry footsteps came marching over.

With a tired sigh of my own I resigned myself to the beating that was to come.

“Guys, I doubt you’ll listen to me when I say that it’s not what it looks like, but could you maybe lay off the head today? I’m kinda real hungover.”

* * *

 

A weak groan escaped my lips an hour later as I shifted my hand, sunlight glaringly bright. With a hiss I put my hand back over my eyes, closing them and wishing once more for the sweet release of death.

“Stop playing it up. I already apologized, did I not?”

I glanced out from beneath my hand at Lucina, who was sitting across from me with a fairly embarrassed expression on her face. We had relocated from the palace after she and Lon’qu had beat the ever-loving snot out of me, before Lissa had been able to explain what had happened. And of course, despite my plea to the contrary, there had been numerous blows to the head.

And to top it all off, my pained screams had woken Owain. So at least Lon’qu was in the dog house now, too.

Now I was sitting in my favorite café with Lucina, who had graciously offered to treat me to breakfast by way of apology. I was still wearing the jacket I’d snatched from the Royal Guards, too, so I’d send it back with Lucina.

“I blame you for this,” I groaned.

“And I already apologized,” Lucina repeated. “Had we known that my Aunt Lissa had been struck by weakness-”

“No, I blame you for all the rumors about me being an unashamed man-whore,” I interrupted. “I am not that bad and you know it. What do I gotta do, get married myself!? For Christ’s sake, she’s married! To a man who was once my friend! Ugh… but no more, that fucker needs to learn restraint…”

Lucina just mumbled something unintelligible that sounded suitably apologetic, wilting in her seat.

Breakfast had been a simple affair; eggs, smoked ham, some under-cooked toast, and a cup of very strong black coffee. Lucina had opted for a cup of tea, having finished most of her own breakfast at the palace before she’d beat me stupid with her uncle.

She sat now, studiously avoiding my gaze, in her ‘plain clothes’. Or her civvies, as I liked to call anything that wasn’t one of my uniforms. A simple white blouse and dark tan pants under a duty jacket she’d snagged while she had still been my assistant. Clearly, judging by the fact that none of the colors were garish and clashing, Severa had picked this outfit for her. Her hand still occasionally drifted to the empty spot on her hip where Falchion had once hung out of habit. She’d hung up the sword, claiming that she didn’t need it in peacetime, but still kept it close at hand in her quarters. Resting on the delicate golden chain was the pendant I’d given her years ago, no longer hidden beneath her tunic now that we weren’t fighting wars every other day.

“You’d better not let Noire find out about this,” I warned her, leaning forward to take a sip of the bitter, nourishing, life-giving brown liquid in my mug. “She’ll kick your ass worse than you kicked mine.”

“I know,” Lucina moaned, burying her face in her hands.

I smirked for a moment before the phantom pain from where my lip had been split and healed made its presence known again and I gave a pained hiss.

“So what’re you doing for the rest of the day?” I asked conversationally.

“Training and studying,” Lucina answered automatically. “I wish to take the test to become a magistrate in the Fall, and I still have much to learn.”

“Just don’t over-do it,” I warned, sipping my coffee again. “All work and no play makes Lucina a dull girl.”

Lucina huffed, looking away and crossing her arms beneath her breasts. She, like all of the time-travelers, had finally stopped looking so destitute and emaciated now and had grown up. She’d been pretty before, if I’m totally honest, but now she was striking. And while her rack wasn’t quite the size of her mother or sister’s, she still had a nice pair that-

“You were fantasizing about my breasts again, weren’t you?” Lucina deadpanned.

“Woman get out of my head,” I snapped automatically.

With an irritated sigh and a swish of perfect cobalt hair Lucina shook her head, before glancing around the café again.

“Does there not seem to be… an awful lot of couples out today?” she asked.

“Do you not know what day it is?” I asked, quirking a brow. “Saint Emmeryn’s Day? Chocolates and flowers and love and all that bullshit?”

“I… did not,” Lucina said honestly.

“Ugh, you know we look like one of those couples too right now,” I groaned.

“You would be so lucky!” Lucina snapped, frowning. “I’m sorry you find my company so disagreeable!”

“Way to overreact, Luce,” I deadpanned, rising to my feet and draining the last of my coffee. “I got my own reasons for not liking this day, fuck you very much. Thanks for breakfast.”

Then without looking back I left a flustered Lucina sitting alone in the café. She had stormed off while we’d been talking plenty of times, but to my knowledge this was the first time I’d gotten the shits and beaten her to it.

* * *

 

I wandered around town for a little while, simply lost in my own head. I had my hands in my pockets and my head down, so it’s no surprise no one called out to me or approached me. I was pretty well known at this point, and usually I’d get at least one or two people asking to shake my hand or thanking me for my service to Ylisse. Fortunately, the people seemed to read the mood and left me alone.

It was a nice day and it was starting to warm up a little, reminding me of the jacket I was still wearing that I’d forgotten to give to Lucina to return to the Guards’ garrison.

I stopped as I heard a familiar laugh from one of the niche little open-air bistros, glancing over to make sure the dumbass wasn’t wearing his uniform to pick up girls again.

“But of course, my dears,” Virion declared. “I, the archest of archers and the loveliest of lovers would love to take each of you on a date today! But unfortunately the day grows short and I only have so many arms!”

The ‘archest of archers’ and, as I liked to call him, the ‘dumbest of dumbasses’ was sitting in his gaudy everyday wear, smirking at the attention as a crowd of at least ten women pestered him. The remains of a light breakfast sat on the table in front of him, as well as enough tea to drown an elephant, and as he laughed again I felt a vein throb in my forehead.

“Good morning, Cherche!” I shouted without thinking.

“Cherche!? Where!?” Virion shrieked, color dropping from his face. “Darling it’s not what it looks like please don’t sic your lovely Minerva on me again oh gods above I’m far to pretty to die!”

His suave persona utterly gone as he dived over the back of his chair and disappeared in seconds, the ladies of Ylisse looked at the space he’d vacated in confusion. I doubled over with laughter, having to hold myself up on a nearby light-pole. My laughter only increased when ten very incensed women turned baleful glares in my direction, finally catching on.

“He’s married, girls,” I laughed. “Better luck next time!”

Before I could vacate the scene of the crime I felt a large, meaty hand slap me on the back, the distinctive deep chuckle coming alongside me.

“Hoy, was good one,” Gregor guffawed. “Gregor not see skinny archer move like that since wedding day!”

“You’d run too if your wife’s maid of honor was a wyvern,” I chuckled.

“So, will young Ben be taking Virion’s place?” Gregor asked.

“Nah, I think they’re about to lynch me,” I laughed. “Why don’t you go keep them company, big guy?”

Gregor gave me a wink, the older man spreading his arms wide as he approached the bistro.

“Ladies, do not be shying from Gregor! May not be as pretty as archest of archers, but has muscles, yes? Round of drinks on Gregor, yes! Stay, and Gregor tells how he single-handedly saved General and Exalt in Valm!”

“Contain thine orgasms, maidens!” I added with a smirk, ignoring the scandalized glares. “It’s a good story!”

Then, shaking my head I resumed my wandering. It had looked like at least a couple of the girls had been willing to listen to Gregor’s stories, so I didn’t feel so bad about ditching to resume my aimless walk. Of course, being Emmeryn’s day and a Sunday there were couples out and about everywhere. Smiling, happy couples that made me want to puke and light them on fire. Happy normal people, man… makes me shudder.

Eventually I made my way to one of the small garden squares that the Inner Ward of Ylisstol was known for. Five benches arranged in a circle around a bubbling fountain, all occupied with a small crowd standing around them, too. It wasn’t the fountain that was so interesting that day, though, but rather what was in front of the fountain.

Olivia, clad in her skimpy white dancer’s attire, was regaling the crowd with one of her beautiful, graceful dances as they appreciatively looked on. Despite working for me and becoming an officer in the Ylissean army she still held tight to her dreams of opening a dancing studio, and she often went out to dance like this, collecting tips to put towards the studio.

I joined the back of the crowd, watching her dance alone with a small smile rising to my face as I was finally able to tune out the couples around me. Olivia had this sort of ethereal grace when she danced, and it was easy to get lost in her movements. There had been many nights in Valm, I’m not ashamed to admit, where the only thing that had kept me going was Olivia’s dancing. And I know it was the same for quite a few of the soldiers.

Yet for all her beauty, and all her admirers, she still remained single. And that little prat Inigo refused to clue anyone in on who his father was.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize she’d stopped until the crowd’s raucous applause shook me out of my reverie. I clapped along with them, leaning against the back of one of the benches with my hip as I watched most of the men in the crowd drop a few coins in the little box she carried around for tips. Olivia blushed heavily as she waved off all the compliments and praise heaped upon her, bowing low from the waist every time someone dropped so much as a single copper into her box. Which, given the amount of cleavage she showed off when she bowed, only earned her more coins.

Once the crowd dispersed a little and the pink haired dancer squatted to check on her tips I sauntered up, dropping a large denomination gold coin in the box. Her gaze instantly snapped up, her delicate brow furrowing a little as she realized who had given her such a generous tip.

“Ben! I told you, you don’t pay for my dancing!”

“Paying for the ambiance,” I shrugged, grinning. “Was having a shitty day til I saw you. Taking a break?”

She nodded, still frowning a little as she rose, clutching the box to her generous chest.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You look a little rough.”

“That obvious, huh? Wanna sit?”

“Sure.”

By now the crowd had practically disappeared, returning the small square back to its usual low occupancy level as we claimed one of the benches. Olivia sat, fingers running through the coins as she did a rough count. I spread my arms along the back of the bench, leaning back and letting my head fall backwards to look up at the brilliant blue Ylissean spring sky.

“So, what, no great plans for Emmeryn’s Day?” I asked conversationally.

Olivia shook her head, piling the coins into the little purse she had with her. “No, just… dancing for the couples. It makes them happy.”

“I’ll bet it has nothing to do with that fat stack you just snuck into your purse,” I smirked, tilting my head a little to glance sidelong at her.

The dancer smiled at the now empty box, resting her hands on its edges.

“I’m so close now,” she told me. “So close to my dream.”

“It’ll hurt to lose you,” I told her honestly. “But I think if he can rein in his pyromania Toady will make a good replacement for you.”

“I’m not gone yet,” Olivia said quickly. “I still have a long way to go and then there’s the time to build the studio and-”

“Olivia, take a breath,” I cut her off, trying not to laugh.

She complied, gulping in a deep lungful of air and blushing bright red again.

“I just didn’t want you to think… I was abandoning you,” she said meekly.

“I’d never think that. You’re not the type,” I said, taking the arm resting on the bench behind her and pulling her in for a side-hug. “You know I support your dream one hundred and ten percent. You wanna go, go for it. Any time. Okay?”

“Thanks, Ben,” she said softly.

We stayed like this for a moment, and Olivia reached up to run her fingertips over the callused ridges of the knuckles on the hand I had on her shoulder. We separated then, a relaxed smile on the dancer’s face now.

“So why do you look grumpier than usual today?” Olivia asked.

“Eh, it’s not important,” I waved her off with a grin. “I got to watch my favorite dancer and even hug her. I’d say I got nothing left to be grumpy about.”

“Don’t do that, don’t try to play it off,” Olivia huffed.

“What?” I shrugged, before letting out a sigh. “Fine. It’s my brother’s birthday and I’m homesick. There. Happy now?”

“Oh, Ben, is that why you got so drunk last night?” Olivia asked sympathetically.

“How’d you know that?” I asked quickly. “I thought I was being pretty damn subtle about it.”

“You were up on the rooftop terrace screaming ‘I’m Batman!’ again,” Olivia laughed. “You only stopped when Noire and Morgan dragged you kicking and screaming to your room. Virion and Robin had to help. It was… a mess.”

“Aw. Now I feel even worse about blowing them off this morning,” I muttered, running a hand over my head-stubble.

“So! What can we do to make you feel better?” Olivia asked, smiling at me.

“Well, I was planning to wander around all day avoiding any and all human contact and then drink myself into a stupor,” I said slowly, as if considering my options. “Although, the thought of wandering around all day avoiding any and all human contact before drinking myself into a stupor sounds pretty appealing, too. Oh, what if I-”

“Wandered around all day avoiding any and all human contact and then drank yourself into a stupor?” Olivia cut in. “No. That’s not going to make you feel better.”

“Well, then, doctor Olivia, what do you suggest?” I asked sarcastically.

Olivia let out a little giggle, straightening and putting on a serious face and tone. “As your physician I suggest a good helping of human contact and sobriety.”

“Ick. Sounds dull,” I snorted, making a face.

“Come on, I know what’ll cheer you up,” Olivia persisted, bumping my shoulder with her own. “And it’s not avoiding all human contact and drinking yourself into a stupor.”

“Damn, one step ahead of me,” I sighed.

“Why don’t you go see Libra?” she suggested. “I know the kids at the orphanage love you, and I know how much you enjoy spending time with them.”

“Lies and slander,” I said. “But maybe I should go do something. I’ll take it under advisement. What about you? Any plans for the most romantic day of the year?”

“Oh, I have plans,” Olivia said with a sly wink.

“Please tell me they don’t involve you crawling into my bed wearing less fabric than you’d find on one end of an ear-cleaner,” I groaned, resting my face in my hands.

“What!?” Olivia laughed.

“Nothing. Long story,” I sighed.

* * *

 

Just after lunch I continued my aimless wandering, thinking on what Olivia had told me. She’d disappeared after our little chat, probably to go squirrel away the coins she’d earned with her dancing so far, so I was left to my own devices. Just as I was beginning to contemplate breaking my last gold coin on lunch I was stopped by a flash of red hair and a familiar, biting tone of voice that brought a small smile to my face.

“I told you no! Gawds, you men are all the same!”

Severa huffed, her face twisted in a scowl as a well-dressed young man recoiled from her outburst. He wasn’t a bad looking guy. Handsome enough, with a decent chin and a clean, well-presented outfit. Minor nobility of some sort, no doubt. Clearly someone was trying to get lucky. Too bad he’d chosen the prickliest bitch in the entire city. Maybe he was a masochist, though, what do I know?

“B-but all I asked was if you’d join me for-” he stammered, trying to pull himself together.

“No!” Severa snarled. “Now stop following me!”

She crossed her arms and turned her head away in an obvious dismissal, her eyes widening ever-so-slightly as her gaze fell on me.

“There you are!” she snapped, totally ignoring the young man and stomping over to me. “How dare you make me wait so long!? You better be ready to make up for it!”

I smirked at the crestfallen young man, giving him an apologetic shrug before Severa was before me.

“Roll with it and I’ll buy you lunch,” she muttered, frowning at me.

“Just don’t punch me,” I muttered back, leaning in and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Sorry, dear, I got delayed,” I told her, just loud enough for the younger guy to hear.

Severa blushed the same color as her hair, clearly torn between kicking me in the balls and storming off and the deception she was trying to pull off. Too bad for her I found that in situations like these it was best to lay it on thick, to leave no doubt that the lie were real. To that end I took Severa’s arm, entwining it with my own and began to pull her back the direction I’d come.

“Beat me up later, lunch is on me,” I snickered out of the side of my mouth.

“You’re lucky he was annoying,” the redhead seethed.

“Yeah, yeah, thank me later,” I said.

Once we rounded the corner I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we weren’t being tailed, but it looked like lover-boy had taken the hint. I moved to let Severa go, but she had a death-grip on my arm.

“Uh, Sev he’s gone, you can let go now,” I told her.

“Sh-shut up! I know that!” she snapped, squeezing my arm tighter. “You should be grateful! You have a beautiful woman clinging to you! On Emmeryn’s Day, no less! You’re welcome!”

I rolled my eyes, stifling my laugh. Because if anything would make her snap it’d be me laughing at her.

“Alright, my beauteous blushing date, where would you like to eat?” I asked her.

Severa mumbled something, pointedly facing away from me. “You pick,” she said quietly.

I just gave a one-shouldered shrug, seeing as Severa was so attached to the other arm, and led us to the closest restaurant I could find. It was another open-air bistro joint, like I’d chased Virion out of earlier, full to bursting with happy couples. Severa gave a disappointed frown, which the layman wouldn’t really be able to tell from her usual frown in most circumstances, when she spotted the line of couples waiting for a table.

“Nice one, bringing us to a full place,” she scoffed irritably.

I just smirked, holding up my pimp-hand and letting the light reflect off the ring with Chrom’s signet. I strode to the low railing that separated the bistro from the street, ignoring the questioning glares I was getting from the other waiting patrons, and waved over the maître d. With the pimp hand for good measure. The middle-aged man frowned, clearly only coming over to chase me off, until he spotted the ring on my hand. His whole countenance changed, his face lighting up and his entire bearing becoming far more welcoming.

“Oh, Lord General Ben, sir,” the man greeted with a wide smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Are you and your lady friend perhaps looking for a place to dine?”

“We were, but you look rather busy,” I said archly.

Severa smirked on my arm before taking up a look of frustrated boredom right out of the Ylissean court that we so detested.

“Darling, I’m ever so hungry,” she drawled. “What about that lovely café up the street? Maybe they have space?”

“No! No, no milady, we have a table that just opened up,” the maître d promised quickly.

“We don’t want to be any trouble,” I said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” the man said, clasping his hands as if begging. “For a hero and the Exalt’s retainer? None at all! Please, come around to the front and we’ll have you seated right away!”

“Well, if you insist,” I sighed, desperately trying not to smirk.

We followed the man along the front of the café, ignoring the hushed grumbling from those waiting, and were instantly led to a table in the front corner, overlooking the picturesque Ylissean street. The maître d himself sat us down and brought us our menus, promising to return momentarily to take our orders. Only when he was gone did Severa finally crack and let loose the smirk that was pulling at the corners of my own lips, too.

“This is a wild abuse of your power,” she said quietly.

“What is power for if not to be abused,” I shrugged. “I’d say I’m pretty tame compared to the rest of the nobility. And far more handsome.”

“In a rough sort of way, I guess,” Severa laughed. “If you like bald men, that is.”

“Ooh, ouch,” I laughed back. “My feelings. That hurt. I think we’re gonna need some wine.”

“Of course, Lord General,” the maître d said, reappearing at my elbow already holding a bottle and two glasses. “I’ve taken the liberty of choosing the finest lunch wine to get you started.”

I gave Severa another grin, which se returned.

Maybe Olivia had been right, and the best way to avoid the sads was to just do stuff to distract myself.

And, in my defense, I wasn’t drinking alone.

* * *

 

Much to my surprise I ended up further taking Olivia’s advice and spending the rest of the day after lunch with the orphans at Libra’s little church on the outskirts of the city. Severa had been surprisingly good company, but after three courses of lunch and two bottles of wine we’d called it quits and I’d left her to the rest of her afternoon. She had been coy enough to give me a thank you kiss, though, on the lips again like I’d done earlier before disappearing into the Ylissean crowds. I’d made a stop on the way to the little church to grab some chocolate for the kids, which had lasted about as long as the last TV on a Black Friday sale. Libra appreciated the extra help, and it gave me a chance to spend the day doing something distracting and yet still constructive.

And so it was, as the sun sank low beyond the horizon and the pearly blue sky faded to dusk that I trudged back to the barracks, my hands deep in the pockets of my borrowed jacket and my head low.

There would be no pizza or cake waiting for me.

There could be a woman waiting for me, if I’d wanted.

But I’d rather just spend the rest of the day drinking myself stupid. And this time not screaming about Batman. Hopefully I could just sneak by everyone and crawl into bed.

With my head down and lost in my own thoughts it didn’t take me long to reach the barracks. I glanced up when the toe of my boot caught the ledge of the first step, sighting through my nose. Deciding to simply face the music I pushed open the door, only to find the place empty and dark.

Thinking this odd, I pushed through and silently closed the door behind me. I padded silently up the stairs to find the officer’s common room similarly dark. In fact, it was pitch black, no light at all coming through the windows.

“What the fu-”

Before I could finish there was a blinding flash of light, and I was forced to cover my eyes with one hand as the other instinctively dropped to the small of my back, reaching for one of the twin daggers I always had on hand. I needn’t have bothered, though, because…

“SURPRISE!”

When I blinked my vision clear it was to see all my friends in the Shepherds waiting in the common room, smiling and laughing as they tossed confetti and streamers into the air. The entire common room had been set up as if it were someone’s birthday, complete with a cake in the middle of the coffee table. Much to my disappointment there was no pizza, even after I taught these fuckers how to make it from nothing, but there was a decent spread on a table off to the side.

Tharja and Robin stood at the back of the room, smiling triumphantly as Noire and Morgan giggled next to the door. Virion and Cherche smiled as the archer brushed confetti from his wife’s clothes, and Chrom and Sumia hoisted a young Lucina up between them as she cheered, the older Lucina attentively behind them in case her younger self slipped and fell. Cordelia was there with Severa. Owain, Brady, Cynthia, Say’ri, Tiki, Gregor, Inigo and even Lon’qu and Lissa.

Olivia stepped forward, picking bits of paper confetti out of her hair with a giggling smile on her face.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked.

“How’d you make the room so dark?” I asked dumbly.

“Tharja cast a darkness spell,” Robin called from the back.

Next to her the dark mage in question gave a smug grin.

“Y’all know it’s a few months early for my birthday, right?” I asked, looking around the room.

“It’s not for you, silly!” Olivia laughed. “It’s for your brother!”

This shocked me into silence for a few moments, before I finally rallied enough to say…

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a birthday party for your brother!” Morgan laughed, coming up and giving me a big hug. “You know, the uncle I’ve never met? You should’ve said something! We could’ve done this years ago!”

“You snitch,” I said, locking eyes with Olivia.

She just shrugged, blushing a little as she grinned triumphantly. And despite my accusatory tone, I felt pretty good. I felt a lot lighter than I had all day, like someone had taken a kit-bag I’d forgotten I was carrying off my shoulders. Again. I knew I could never be with my family again. That was the choice I’d made. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t have another family of my own right here.

Like the people I was surrounded by right now.

Like the old saying goes, ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’.

I missed my brother, sure.

But that didn’t mean I had to be miserable about it.

“I’m sorry for earlier today…” the adult Lucina said, stepping forward.

“Forget it,” I told her. “I was acting like an ass.”

Noire surprised just about everyone then, I think, when she came up and gave me a big hug like Morgan had.

“Happy Emmeryn’s Day, dad,” she said, moving back and handing me a parcel. “This is from me and Morgan.”

“Morgan and I,” the younger of my daughters corrected.

“Grammar Nazi,” Noire and I intoned at the same time.

A peal of laughter spread around the room, and I stepped further in to stand before the cake, at the center of the group.

“Alright, someone beer me!” I said, much to the approval of those gathered.

A mug of ale was pressed into my waiting hand, and I hefted it high.

“Here’s to my baby brother! Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing… happy birthday!”


	5. All the World's a Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The following story is based in a hypothetical 'post-game' setting, and may contain minor spoilers for the main Self Insert story.

I let out a satisfied breath, rising up from where I’d been crouching and wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. Summers in Baham weren’t as bad as what I was used to in Australia, but it was still possible to work up a decent sweat if you tried hard enough. Looking down from my perch I gave a small grin at the maid waiting beneath me, her face white as a sheet and her lips pursed into a tight line. I couldn’t blame her; being totally honest, my track record with heights wasn’t exactly great. At least there were no wyverns to punch up here, though.

“What’s wrong, Thundercat?” I called down. “Why don’t you come up? View’s great up here!”

“I’m more worried about you coming down, milord,” Elle called back up to me.

I scoffed and looked back up, smiling as I took in the city view.

My city.

Baham, the jewel of the north.

Surrounded on all sides by thick forest, the city was the first or last stop in Ylisse for most merchants on their way to or from Eastern Regna Ferox. It was one of the biggest cities on the major eastern trade route, meaning it was always a hive of bustling activity. And if I had my way, soon it would be an artistic and educational mecca, too. I had inherited lordship of the city after preventing a civil war between the territories of Baham and Fruford before the Valm Campaign, and with it had come the thing I had dreaded most.

Rank.

Duke Ben of Baham. Founder and retired General of the Ylissean Royal Regular Army. Occasional retainer to the Exalt. Liberator of Valm. Hero of Chon’sin. And, of course my personal favorite, The God-Slayer.

“Daddy! I’m hungry!”

And… recently doting father.

I looked down again, a small raven-haired girl standing with her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms crossed as she glared up at me. Noire had made Elle tie her hair in small pigtails today, making me nervous that Severa had been too much of an influence on my baby girl.

“Alright, sweetie!” I called down. “Daddy’s almost done, so-”

“No, daddy! I’m hungry now!” she shouted, stomping one foot for good measure.

The tradesmen on the roof around me snickered as I sighed and rolled my eyes, setting aside my hammer and nails. I was almost done with the roof tiles anyway.

“Sorry, guys,” I said over my shoulder. “Can you finish up?”

“Sure thing, Your Lordship,” one of the carpenters grinned.

“Mock me all you want,” I grinned, edging towards the waiting ladder. “Truth is? The women in my life have called the shots since the day I got to Ylisse. No shame in that.”

“Aint that the truth for all’a us!?” one of the other carpenters called.

The men on the roof exploded into laughter as I slid down the ladder, clamping the sides with my feet and palms and letting gravity do the work. On the ground I heard Elle let out a relieved breath as little Noire glared up at me, the spitting image of her mother. And her older, time-travelling self, but that one was a given.

I smiled back, pulling the bandana off my shaved head and stuffing it into my pocket. I was wearing simple pants and a shirt with a matching vest over top. I held out my hand, my jacket magically appearing in it before I pulled the garment on. Of course, the magic was actually my bodyguard and assistant Su’ko, who had been with me since before Valm, too. The ninja woman looked deceptively unthreatening in a simple purple dress, a deep red sash tied around her middle.

“Thank you, Su,” I said with a nod.

She silently bowed, but I caught the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips as she did so. Even after all this time, it still pleased her that I acknowledged her presence.

“Daddy!” Noire cried.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I groaned, before muttering. “I swear you take more after Severa than your mother… either way I’m doomed…”

I turned to admire our handiwork as I approached the others, the shape of the building we were constructing standing tall and proud in the morning sun. The Baham Performing Arts Theatre. First of its kind outside of Ylisstol. I was overseeing the construction with Olivia, who was currently inside using her old army quartermaster skills to get the interior outfitted. We’d both retired after Grima; me because I’d been crippled in my sword arm, and Olivia because she wanted to follow her dream. This dream. Having her own stage.

Only she didn’t know yet it was hers. That part was a secret.

God I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when I gave her the keys…

“Okay, sweetie, what do you want to eat for lunch?” I asked, squatting down to Noire’s level.

“Cake,” she said, smiling brightly up at me.

I barked out a laugh, grabbing my little girl in a hug and pulling her up in my arms as I stood. I hugged her close to my chest and kissed her forehead, grinning broadly as she smiled back, and…

“No,” I said, my smile dropping. “Healthy food, remember? Cake for desert.”

“You suck,” Noire pouted, turning away in my arms.

“And you just lost cake privileges,” I laughed.

“Aw! Thundercat, protect me!” Noire cried, throwing her arms out.

Elle gave a long-suffering groan, and from behind me I could swear I actually heard Su’ko chuckle a little. The maid stomped forward, her thin frame deceptively strong as she picked Noire out of my arms and set her back on the ground.

“It’s bad enough you have the Exalt calling me that, milord,” Elle said, glaring at me before turning that glare on the girl. “The young miss knows better, though.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Elle,” Noire said, totally unrepentant.

“You’re still not getting cake for lunch,” I said over Elle’s head.

“You all suck!” Noire pouted, crossing her arms.

“Young lady!” I admonished with a grin. “Oh, how sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child! Where did you even pick up such language?”

“I wonder,” Elle deadpanned, glaring at me again.

* * *

 

It was evening by the time I returned to the theater, content to just wander around the almost finished building and soak in the ambience. The smell of sawdust, something I’d found comforting since my days as a boy hanging around my father’s workshop, still hung in the air even this late in the evening. The only light came from the single lantern I’d brought with me and left on the edge of the stage as I wandered through the rows of bench seats, running my fingertips along their smooth, sanded edges.

All of it was empty right now, but someday soon these seats would be full of laughing, smiling patrons. The halls would bustle with movement, the backstage would hum with nervous tension. There would be life. The kind of celebration of life that only the theater, only the arts, could bring.

I think Olivia was the only other person besides me excited like this. She was only in it for the dancing, though. As I passed through the rows of seats, I eventually reached the stage, running my hand gently over the polished wooden surface. I was here for it all. The dancing, the poetry, the acting and the music. All of it would happen here one day. Baham would become a place of art and culture, not war and hatred like I had let it be for so long. They would come from all over the world; dancers from Plegia, jugglers and acrobats from Valm, singers and musicians from Regna Ferox, poets from Ylisse… actors from wherever I could get them…

With a small grunt I hoisted myself up onto the stage, my old injured wrist screaming in protest going ignored as I stood tall on the platform. If nothing else, the constant fighting had given me a high pain threshold. I looked out over the benches, cast in shadow as the spotlight of the lantern fell on me. Slowly, unbidden, a smile rose to my face.

I was all alone here…

Why the hell not?

_“Morning in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame...”_

I began to sing the first song that came to my mind; the opening to Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame. I knew the song off by heart, thanks to the youtuber Jonathan Young’s cover, so…

_“The fisherman fishes, the baker-man bakes, to the bells of Notre Dame…”_

And so it went, I sang the entire opening score, utterly butchering it. I wasn’t warmed up, and I wasn’t that great a singer to begin with. I honestly just wanted to hear the acoustics of the theater while it was empty, and Olivia had done her job well. I hardly had to push to project, and my voice filled the whole, fortunately empty, space. As I finished, eschewing the high note at the end of the song for a more distorted metal-vocal sound I stopped, arms spread wide and panting now as I grinned a little to myself.

My goofy little grin dropped with my arms, however, at the sound of clapping.

“Woo! Go dad! Encore! Encore!”

I rolled my eyes and blushed deeply, crossing my arms and glaring at the figure sitting up in the nosebleed section. Morgan grinned as she rose to her feet, quickly approaching the front as I dropped into a sitting position on the edge of the stage, praying that the weak light hid my red cheeks.

“How long were you there?” I asked.

“A while,” my time-travelling daughter grinned impishly.

“Oh god, how long is ‘a while’?” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Morgan just grinned, hopping past me onto the stage and doing a little spin before stopping, copying the pose I’d taken at the start of the song. And then she surprised me.

 _“Morning in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame,”_ she sang, perfectly in tune.

She did the first few lines before breaking into a fit of giggles and grinning down at me.

“Well, clearly you get that from your mother,” I smirked. “Because you just heard how bad I am at singing.”

“Aw, you weren’t so bad,” Morgan laughed, pulling me up by one arm.

I sighed as she dragged me into the middle of the stage.

“Now, come on, let’s sing together!” Morgan said with a radiant smile.

“No!” I laughed along.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Morgan pouted.

“I can’t sing!” I warned her.

“I just heard you,” she reminded me. “You weren’t that bad!”

I opened my mouth to rebut when a thought popped into my head. With a grin, I decided that if she liked my horrible Disney singing so much…

 _“Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba!”_ I ‘sang’ at the top of my lungs.

Morgan jumped, her face shocked before she burst into laughter again.

“What the hell was that!?” She asked, still smiling.

“The Lion King,” I shrugged, grinning again before continuing. _“Nants ingonyama bagithi baba! Sithi uhhmm ingonyama! Ingonyama!”_

“Stop! Stop, I’m sorry!” Morgan cried.

She was laughing so hard that she was doubled over now, one hand holding herself up on her knee while the other clutched at her heaving ribs, tears of laughter almost running down her face at this point.

“Lesson learned?” I asked her.

“What language even was that?” she asked, shaking her head as the last of her chuckles died down.

“Zulu I think,” I shrugged. “A language from back home. I’m not really sure, I just know the song.”

“Well, it’s no worse than when you taught us Du Hast,” Morgan chuckled.

“Hey, that song is an important part of your heritage, missy!” I said, mock-seriously.

We looked at each other for a moment before my frown cracked and we both burst back into laughter. After a few minutes of laughing so hard I went light headed, we moved towards the edge of the stage and sat down.

“So, what’s up?” I asked after a moment.

“Well, I am your daughter, and I do enjoy harassing my family members just as much as you do,” Morgan shrugged.

“Oh, I’m sure,” I smirked.

“I’m also wondering if you’ve found me a mom yet,” Morgan said, mirroring my smirk.

“Knew it,” I scoffed.

I leaned back until I simply fell onto my back, staring up at the domed ceiling of the theatre.

To this day, Morgan hadn’t told anyone who her mother was. None of the other time-travelers could remember, thanks to the temporal anomaly I had created when I’d dropped myself into their existence, and Morgan was insistent on not ‘spoiling’ things for us. Hell, she even spent a fortune on hair dye from Anna so I couldn’t find out that way. It was nice that she wanted me to find love the old-fashioned way, but when she was breathing down my neck about it like this it got annoying.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met any daughter so interested in their father’s sex life,” I said from my prone position. “Are you jealous? Should I have called you ‘Ophelia’ instead?”

“First, ew,” Morgan said, scrunching up her face in disgust and sticking out her tongue. “And second, I do have something of a personal stake in this. I’m already going to be way younger than Noire this time. I would still like to be born.”

“You can’t have your cake and eat it, too, missy,” I grunted, sitting back up. “Either tell me where to aim my dick or stop bugging me about it. Or I start in on you and Inigo giving me grandkids again.”

“Dad! Ew!” Morgan laughed. “I keep telling you, Inigo and I are friends! No fuckin’! That’d be like fucking my brother!”

“You know what they say: Incest is wincest,” I shrugged.

“Oh fuck, Dad, barf!” Morgan laughed, holding her stomach. “I don’t know whether to laugh or puke.”

“Do both, I’ll hold your hair,” I smirked.

“Ass,” Morgan chuckled, shoving me in the shoulder.

“Apple don’t fall far from the butt-tree,” I grinned, shoving her back.

“Mmmm, buttery,” Morgan muttered. “Now I want a muffin.”

“You’re gonna end up fat,” I warned.

“Please, with the exercise routine I inherited from you?” Morgan scoffed. “I got abs you could grate cheese on. Look!”

Morgan leaned back and pulled her shirt up, exposing her pale, toned stomach while I laughed and tried to pull her shirt back down.

“Okay, I get the point! Knock it off!” I laughed.

She wasn’t wrong, though. Abs like a fucking boxer, that girl.

“So, what are you really doing here?” I asked.

“I’m here for opening night,” Morgan said, perking up. “Think I’d miss that? Hell no!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, at least you didn’t bring Inigo along to-”

“Oh, he’s already at the fort,” Morgan cut me off. “He loves it there. Probably hiding and watching Olivia practice again or something.”

“Why are all of you kids so fucking creepy?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

Morgan’s only response was to throw her head back and laugh again, the sound echoing around the empty theatre.

* * *

“Director! Director!”

I groaned, my shoulders slumping as I turned a little to glare out of the corner of my eye.

It was morning now, and I was back in the theatre that I may as well have been living out of at this point. I’d just finished breakfast with Noire and seen her off to her tutors for the day and was looking forward to getting a few piddly things done at the theatre, then actually getting some free time to sit around and do nothing, but alas, it was not meant to be.

I ran a hand down my face, looking up to see a giggling Olivia approaching me.

“Olivia, you are the only one who can get away with calling me that,” I sighed. “But please don’t. What’s up?”

The pink-haired dancer smiled brightly, her teeth glinting in the morning sunlight as she laughed at my standard grousing.

“I think it’s a dignified title,” she said.

“I think it makes me sound like I’ll be a lot more involved than I plan to be,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Being ‘patron’ is enough. I’ll find someone else to run the place.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, I know you’re having fun, you big grump,” the dancer laughed, coming alongside me and playfully bumping my shoulder with her own.

Of course, after training and fighting for close to five years straight she may as well have bumped into a brick wall. I may have been retired, but I was proud to say I was still built. Olivia, too, was far more muscular than she once had been; she was still lithe and graceful in the extreme, but the defined lines of muscle beneath her silken-soft skin spoke of the hardships she had endured with us. She had taken to wearing a silk shawl around her shoulders in an attempt to hide what she considered to be unsightly muscle mass for a dancer. Clearly, she had never seen a ballerina before… but aside from that, she still dressed much the same as she always had. I had seen her, much like myself and the rest of the veterans in Baham, wearing her old duty jacket when it got colder out, though.

Despite myself I smirked at her playful behavior, the timid Olivia a thing of the past now. Most of the time, anyway.

“Did you have a reason for bugging me, or are you just here to fulfill the universe’s quota of ‘pissing Ben off for the day’?” I asked. “Because I’m pretty sure the idiots installing the railing up top may have already beat you to it.”

“As much fun as that sounds,” Olivia laughed, crossing her hands behind her back, “I did want to talk to you about opening night.”

“Shoot.”

“I’ve come up with some basic choreography, and my old dancing troupe should be arriving any day now,” she began to explain. “I wanted to get your opinion on it before I went ahead and began organizing the costumes, but you seem to be-”

Olivia was cut off by a loud crash of falling lumber, both of us visibly cringing.

“Busy,” she finished with a small smile.

I spun, glaring at the contractors who had dropped a bundle of balusters for the railings around the upper platforms. The two young men looked at me with guilty expressions, and I debated ripping into them, but it didn’t appear that any of them were broken, so I just shook my head and turned back to Olivia.

The plan for opening night was an all-out assault of all of the arts. The two main shows would be Olivia’s dance performance, utilizing musicians and dancers from all over the world, and my play. Olivia had told me her segment would have dancers performing traditional, crowd-pleasing dances around the non-traditional, experimental stuff she liked to do. I was honestly excited to see it.

“I’m gonna fucking kill those two if any of those are broken,” I sighed. “I’ll make time. I promise. When are you free?”

“I’m free all day today,” she said with a hopeful smile. “I still have to wait for the rest of the interior to get here. Anna’s taking her sweet time.”

“You mean extorting more freight money out of me?” I deadpanned.

“You said it, not me,” Olivia laughed.

“This place is bleeding me dry,” I groaned, running both hands down my face.

“Yes, but it’s good practice for me,” Olivia smirked. “I get to watch you make all the mistakes so I don’t when I build my own theatre.”

“Right, right, I’m always the first pancake,” I sighed.

Olivia just laughed again as we threaded our way through the milling builders, back outside into the sunlight. We both let out matching sighs as we tilted our heads back in sync, basking in the warm morning sun.

“How’s your script coming?” she asked conversationally.

“Just making the last adjustments,” I said, my face darkening into a frown. “Seriously, though. Fuck iambic pentameter. If I had any hair left, I would’ve pulled it out weeks ago.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Olivia laughed.

“Not only did I have to write this fucking thing from memory, but I had to work it into the pentameter, too,” I groaned. “Fuck everything. Seriously. I am not doing this again. At least the acting troupe you suggested are professional enough that I don’t need to hover over them while they practice. Although I do have to keep explaining the script to them, but that’s no surprise…”

“They’re good,” Olivia nodded. “Better than they were when we travelled together by far. It’s been good to see them all again. I heard Morgan’s the understudy for one of the lead roles?”

“Yeah, she offered and there’s really not a lot of woman-actors out there,” I said. “She is my daughter, after all. It runs in her blood.”

I sighed out my nose, leaning back against the outside wall of the theatre.

“Think you might go on tour again once this is done?” I asked.

Olivia glanced over at me, a small, knowing smile on her face.

“Why Ben, are you asking because you would miss me?” she asked coyly. “You? Mister ‘everyone leave me the fuck alone’?”

“Oh god, did I ruin all of you?” I laughed. “I’m just curious.”

The dancer laughed, too, her smile turning bitter-sweet as we ambled back towards the city.

“I don’t think so,” she admitted after a moment. “I’m not as young as I used to be. Not as flexible. Not as… good. Don’t get me wrong I don’t regret anything that I did but I’m just not the woman I was before I joined the army and-”

“Olivia, fuck, take a breath,” I laughed, some of the dancer’s old timidity rising to the fore.

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “I just don’t want you to think… well… I wouldn’t change anything. At all.”

As she spoke Olivia subconsciously moved her hand to her hip, currently covered by a carefully positioned wrap of her gossamer outfit. I knew that, underneath, was an unsightly scar she’d gotten in Valm; a scar that was on full display when she danced.

“Good,” I sighed, theatrically laying the back of my hand on my brow and adopting a bad ‘southern belle’ accent. “I fear I’ve grown accustomed to your face, dear.”

“Oh stop,” Olivia giggled. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be the one up on stage on opening night?”

“ _All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts_ ,” I quoted with a smirk before stopping and snorting. “Fuck that noise, though. I have enough parts as it is, I don’t even want to be anywhere near another. Opening night is going to be when all the little mistakes come bubbling to the surface, and which poor bastard is gonna have to fix em? Me.”

We stopped at the edge of the cordoned off zone for the theatre’s budding gardens, Olivia smiling at me again as she spun to face me.

“If you really hated it so much you wouldn’t be here on your day off,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, you know me better than me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Go do something productive with your day off. I’ll come find you once I kick the builders’ asses for a few hours.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Olivia said with a wink, before spinning and sashaying off down the crowded market street.

I watched her until she disappeared into the crowd before letting out a long sigh, thinking to myself that the new, outgoing Olivia was a welcome change, indeed. As I walked back into the comparatively dim interior of the theatre, I couldn’t quite help but smile at the thought of Olivia’s visit, letting out another sigh and shaking my head.

“ _Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day_ , indeed,” I muttered to myself with a grin.

* * *

Time marched onward, and before long the theatre was done. Which meant that, slowly but surely, people had begun to trickle into Baham for the Grand Opening gala. Eventually, every noble house in Ylisse had a representative present in my city, not to mention all the visiting foreign aristocracy. Maribelle had taken over a good half of my guest wing alone, and I had my maids and butlers beating her people off the half I kept made up in case Chrom decided to drop by. Everyone else had booked out every inn and hotel in the city. Half of the Valmese ruling caste had shown up, not to mention Say’ri, Tiki and a very large contingent of Chon’sinian nobility I was hoping I’d never have to see again, let alone entertain at my estate. I’d given the Chon’sinian group my own quarters. There was no way I could make a visiting foreign queen and Naga’s Voice stay at one of the hotels in town.

Then, scant days before the big night, when I was at my most stressed out after having corrected a number of small mistakes in my script at the last minute, Chrom arrived with all the pomp and ceremony one would expect of a monarch visiting one of his territories. Sumia and both Lucinas in tow, he showed up on my doorstep at the worst possible moment, as was his usual MO.

I hurried down the stairs, ignoring a flustered Elle as she rushed after me and tried to neaten my appearance, approaching where the former Duke, the veteran Helman, was receiving Chrom in my stead.

“Your Grace,” I called out across the foyer. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

Helman reacted first, heaving a long sigh when he saw me and shaking his head. Chrom snickered as Sumia emulated the former Duke, while the time travelling Lucina simply rolled her eyes. I was also certain I could already hear Frederick’s silent disapproval from outside, even though I couldn’t see him yet (nothing new there, though).  

I was currently a mess. I won’t lie.

I hadn’t shaved in weeks; I hadn’t had the time. My clothes were rumpled and creased, and I’m sure I stank to the high heavens. My fingers were dyed almost uniformly black from all the ink I’d been dealing with, and I’m pretty sure I had more than a few smudges on my face.

I got like this when any writing deadline came around. It wasn’t something you really grew out of.

Fortunately, there was one person among their number who was happy to see me, no matter what I looked like…

“Uncle Ben!” a small Lucina cried, darting around her father and barreling into my knees with all the subtlety of a charging freight train.

I almost went over, laughing instead as I bent down to scoop the young Princess up in my arms.

“Wow, someone’s getting big!” I laughed.

“Uh huh! Uh huh!” Princess Lucy nodded quickly. “I’m up to my older-self’s stomach now!”

“Lucina, please!” the time-traveler hissed in embarrassment.

Lucy just turned in my arms and blew her older self a raspberry, earning another laugh from her father.

“Father, do not encourage this kind of behavior!” Lucina groaned.

“Still hasn’t lightened up, I see,” I muttered to the younger princess.

“No, but I keep trying,” she told me.

“I know you do, sweetie,” I laughed, setting her back down. “Why don’t you and your sisters go see the girls? Remember where Noire’s room is upstairs?”

“Yeah!” Lucy cheered excitedly.

She was off in a blue flash, grabbing Lucina by the wrist and apparently pulling a young Cynthia out of hammer-space, before dragging them both up the stairs; much to Chrom and Sumia’s great amusement. Frederick finally chose that point to make his entrance, carrying literally all of the luggage himself. He watched the girls fly up the stairs before his eyes settled on me and he gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Sup, Fredward,” I grinned.

* * *

Once everyone was settled in the suite I kept for Chrom’s visits, we met back up in one of the downstairs patios I liked to use to entertain guests on nice days. Of course, Chrom and Sumia’s arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Maribelle, Say’ri and Tiki had all joined us, as well. Elle had set a table with snacks and tea, and that’s where we all sat, basking in the autumn sun.

I’d taken the time to have a quick shower and run a razor over my head, but I’d decided to forgo hacking at the beard that had formed on my face until I had time to do it properly. But at least I didn’t stink now.

“Fie,” Say’ri muttered, looking down at her cup. “Would that you had told me we had taken your own quarters…”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m pretty much living in my office right now anyway,” I waved her off, ink stains still evident on my fingers underlining my statement.

Say’ri was wearing a beautiful kimono that was probably nearly as old as Tiki, and no doubt cost as much as all of my holdings put together. Delicately embroidered white flowers decorated the pale pink fabric, swathes of color and stylized birds beneath them. Tiki was dressed much the way she usually was, though; and so were Chrom, Sumia and Maribelle.

“One day you will begin to actually act like a noble,” Maribelle sighed theatrically. “And on that day pigs will soar through the air.”

I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut. Ever since we’d made peace with our ‘relationship’ when I’d first shown up in Ylisse, Maribelle and Themis had, surprisingly, been my staunchest supporters in the Ylissean House of Lords upon my appointment as Duke. However, this unofficially made me her bitch, a fact she liked to exercise as much as humanly possible.

“We could have stayed in the guest quarters,” Tiki added, reaching out and piling slices of roast apple onto a small plate.

“I only have enough space for two ‘official visitation contingents’,” I sighed. “One’s permanently on reserve in case Chrom decides to vacation for the summer.”

Chrom cleared his throat, arching one eyebrow.

“Sorry,” I said, rolling my eyes, correcting myself. “I mean ‘I respectfully maintain a suite of rooms for the esteemed Exalt and his family, ere they require lodgings in the north’.”

“Better,” Chrom smirked.

“Besides, I couldn’t kick my old friends out and make you stay in an inn,” I shrugged. “All the classy ones are already booked out. And if I tried to oust some other noble from one of the nicer inns then I’d have to deal with the fallout from that and… ugh. Fuck politics. How do you all deal with it?”

“A lifetime of training,” Say’ri said automatically.

“I revel in the challenge it presents,” Maribelle said haughtily.

“Ale,” Chrom said simply.

There was a moment of silence before the entire table burst out laughing, the Exalt’s comment even getting a few dainty chuckles from Maribelle.

“I notice you did not extend your hospitality to General Virion,” said noblewoman drawled.

“Hey, he wanted the top spot, he stays in the barracks,” I shrugged.

“Aren’t you supposed to at least offer?” Sumia asked.

“Probably,” I smirked, leaning back in my chair. “But like I said; fuck politics.”

“How do you manage to have any friends at all with that attitude?” Tiki laughed.

“Charisma and the best stock of ale north of Ylisstol,” I said, flashing a grin.

“Naga knows that’s the only reason I’m here,” Chrom muttered, earning a swift elbow to the ribs from Sumia.

* * *

And so, finally, opening night came.

The theatre was done, and utterly packed. Every seat had an ass in it, and the warm-up acts were just wrapping up.

And I was about to have a stroke.

“No, the props for the play need to go at the back, the dancers need room to move back here! Reg! Where the fuck do you think you’re going with that light filter!? I don’t care if it’s dirty, we need it for the next act! And why the fuck isn’t there any water at the snack table!? You, you and you, get some clean fucking water!”

I stalked through the crowd of actors, dancers, singers and musicians backstage, shouting out orders with Olivia and Morgan in tow.

“Well, you can take the General out of the army…” Morgan said with a grin.

“Gods I wish I’d had more directors like him when I was travelling,” Oliva agreed.

“And where the fuck are the feather boas!?” I snarled over my shoulder.

I ignored Morgan and Olivia snickering at me in favor of glaring at the prop assistant hurrying forward with an armful of brightly colored feather boas for Olivia’s dance routines.

“Why are you not freaking out like me?” I asked her, turning a little more.

“Because you’re doing a good enough job for the both of us,” Olivia giggled. “Also, I am actually really nervous about being back on stage again after so long and its such an important night and I’m trying really hard to maintain my cool-”

Morgan and I both quirked our eyebrows at her and the dancer caught herself, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

“Okay, point taken,” I smirked.

“Sorry,” Olivia said, eyes still closed. “I’m just so nervous. It’s been so long since I’ve been on stage that… I’ve got the butterflies… I… I’ll b-be fine, though!”

Morgan rolled her eyes, reaching out and poking Olivia on the nose.

“Boop.”

Olivia jumped a little, her eyes snapping open. Morgan pressed her attack, giving a wordless shout and…

“M-M-Morgan!? What are- EEK! Stop! Stop!” Olivia laughed.

…wrapping the dancer in a big bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her off the ground.

 “Are you distracted yet!?” Morgan said above Olivia’s laughter.

“Yes! Yes! Stop before you ruin my costume!” the dancer cried.

My daughter set the slight older woman down, Olivia taking a deep breath and desperately trying to hide the smile on her face.

“… the fuck was that?” I asked with a smirk.

“My mom used to do that to me all the time when I was nervous,” Morgan shrugged.

“Cute,” I said, turning to Olivia. “You good now?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” the dancer nodded.

“Okay, good, now go get ready, you’re on soon,” I said.

Olivia took a deep breath, switching over from her usual self to ‘stage Olivia’. The change was palpable, an aura of calm surrounding the usually skittish dancer as she let herself simply sink into the moment. She didn’t even speak as she walked away, Morgan and I watching this display of ethereal grace with equal parts awe and envy.

Then the lights went up, the band started and the dancers flooded the stage.

The warm-up acrobats beat a hasty retreat, knowing that they would just be in the way if they lingered. As Olivia’s old dance troupe crowded the stage and their show began, I gave myself a moment to watch as Olivia started the dance, her swaying, willowy movements only the beginning of the powerful, energetic dance that I knew was coming.

I’d had to sit down after she’d shown me the prototype. It was that amazing.

The lights went low, blue glass filters being put over the lamps as they all took their places. Olivia was at the back, her pure white outfit contrasting sharply with the dimness of the stage, making her and the other dancers stand out even more. The music started, low and thrumming as the audience began to give their first appreciative glances as they started to move, each dancer’s movements flowing into each other’s like water. At the center of it all, Olivia moving and spinning, ever so slowly, tantalizingly, as she began to work the stage.

And that was all I had time to watch, cursing my luck that I was back stage and not in the audience watching this spectacle. I hadn’t even seen the damned dress rehearsals of her dance; I was too damn busy with my own dress rehearsals, making sure the play was utterly perfect. Which, to my mind, it was.

“Alright, places, people!” I said, turning and clapping. “The dances only go for an hour, so let’s make it count! I want everyone in costume and ready to go! This is the big one, people!”

There was a low cheer from the assembled cast and crew, keeping a lid on it so as not to distract the dancers on stage. A new fervor overtook those of us still backstage, Morgan hovering around me as I did one final check of the props we’d need for the play. Unfortunately, Murphy’s Law dictating ‘everything that can go wrong will go wrong’ was in full force that night, and just as I was finishing with the props one of the stage hands came running up to me out of breath.

“Milord! Milord, we have a problem!” the young man said, out of breath.

“I swear to whatever gods you hold dear if you tell me the caterers bailed early…” I growled in warning.

“N-no, milord, it’s… ah… well…” the young man stammered.

“Well? Out with it!” I snapped.

“You need to come to the dressing room, sir,” was all he said.

I felt a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach as I exchanged glances with Morgan. The kind of feeling I only got when we were in the field and things were about to get FUBAR.

We hurried to the dressing room, the assistant leading us in and standing dutifully just inside the door as I entered into a scene from my worst nightmares.

Our female lead, in full costume, was lying on the floor holding her ankle. The male lead and his understudy were both being held apart by more of the stagehands, faces bloodied and costumes torn.

“What. The. Fuck?” I growled, stomping into the room.

Both men shook off the stagehands, exploding into accusations and pointed fingers, curses and excuses faster and louder than I could comprehend. I held up a hand for silence, my old army countenance clearly slipping on as both men clammed up immediately.

“You,” I said, indicating the stagehand who had brought the situation to me. “Explain. Now.”

“Maly fell, sir,” the stagehand said, indicating to the woman on the ground. “Twisted her ankle, sir.”

“And Wingus and Dingus?” I asked, indicating to the two bloodied actors.

“It was Sige’s fault!” the lead cried, pointing at the understudy. “If he’d been on time with his delivery for-”

“Hany, shut the fuck up!” the understudy snarled. “You’re always such a perfectionist you can’t tell that-”

“Silence,” I said, barely raising my voice.

Once again, the two actors clammed up. Maly gave a small whimper of fear from the ground.

“Neither of you can go on stage like this,” I said, frowning. “Or Maly, for that matter.”

I moved to kneel by her side, indicating I wanted to look at her injured ankle. She nodded, and I gently prodded at the joint while everyone else silently watched on. After so many years around clumsy farm boys playing at being soldiers, I’d gotten a feel for this kind of injury. Maly’s ankle would be fine if she rested it and we got a priest to look at it. Unfortunately, even if we had a priest take care of her right now she would still be limping for a good few hours until her body realized it was healed. Which meant she was out, too.

“Morgan?” I called.

“Yes, sir?” she answered, snapping to attention.

“I want you to bring Maly to one of the quieter rooms and help her change,” I said. “You think you’re up to playing our lead tonight?”

Morgan’s face went slack for a moment before lighting up like a roman candle.

“Sir! I won’t let you down, sir!” she said enthusiastically.

“Good,” I nodded.

“I’m sorry, milord,” Maly mumbled pitifully. “I… I…”

“You need to rest and get better,” I said gently. “Because there’s still at least a week of shows here, then possibly a tour if we’re well enough received. And I know for a fact Morgan still has a day job to worry about. So relax, and feel better. Okay?”

Mollified somewhat, Maly nodded and sullenly let Morgan lead her out of the room. Leaving just me, the stagehands and the two bloodied actors.

“Right,” Sige said, smoothing down his ruined costume. “I suppose we should get a priest in here, get our faces fixed up and-”

I turned to the stagehand who had led us in, ignoring the man.

“Get the prop department on fixing up new outfits right now,” I said quickly. “Tell them we had an incident, they weren’t salvageable.”

“But sir, they’re just-” Hany started.

“You fuck-knuckles have bled all over them,” I pointed out. “They’re ruined.”

Both men looked sullenly down at themselves, as if noticing the state of themselves for the first time.

“You are both supposed to be professionals,” I said, turning to face them both head on. “I do not expect this from professionals that came highly recommended by Olivia, a woman who is currently out there on stage making the rest of us look bad with her fucking perfectionism. While you two, my two leads, brawl like children.

“Sorry, milord.” “Sorry, sir.”

“Stick your apologies so far up your ass they end up behind your eyes,” I said. “Fucking… you both sound like you’ve been punched in the mouth. Even if we heal you now it won’t be enough.”

I turned to one of the other stagehands.

“Was there anyone else studying the part?” I asked.

“Not… seriously, sir,” the stagehand said. “A few of the others ran lines, but…”

“Dammit,” I seethed.

“Well, there’s always you, sir,” the other stagehand suggested tentatively. “You ran lines, and you even wrote it-”

“Not an option,” I cut him off.

“No,” Hany said, exchanging a glance with Sige. “No, I think it might be the only option.”

“No,” I said again.

“He’s right,” Sige sighed. “We messed up. But I don’t want to see this show ruined just because of us.”

“No!” I said again.

“Milord, please,” Hany said, bowing. “Play the lead role.”

“Fuck! No!” I almost shouted.

* * *

I stood at the side of the stage, watching as the dancers came walking off after their final bow. The curtains lowered, and the stagehands quickly set about sweeping and clearing the stage as more of them began to put the backdrops and props for the first scene of the play into place. I had my ‘don’t fuck with me’ face on as the dancers passed me, almost all of them averting their gazes. Only Olivia hesitated, her face shocked as she was hustled past me. Our eyes met, my gaze pleading ‘kill me’ as she turned to continue looking at me, until she was gone.

From my side Morgan snickered, bumping me in the shoulder.

“You look weird with hair,” she commented.

“I will never have sex again,” I warned. “You will never be born. Don’t push me.”

I wore a dark brown wig of yak hair, carefully styled to look as real as possible. My beard was gone, replaced instead with some dark designer stubble where it had once been. My face had been covered in a generous helping of foundation, the make up artist commenting again and again how pretty my lashes were and what a waste it was they were on a man. I looked ten years younger. I felt like a fool.

And worse, I had a feeling I hadn’t had in more than a decade.

I had stage fright.

The curtains went up, and the narrator stepped forward to riotous applause. The sound died away as he began to speak, reciting an opening that I knew by heart.

“ _Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean_ …”

“Here we go,” I muttered to myself.

Romeo and Juliet, the bastardized Ylissean version, had begun.

“This is so exciting,” Morgan said, bouncing a little.

I sucked in a shuddering breath, wincing at the feeling of air on my upper lip.

The narrator finished, bowing and backing off stage as the first actors went out. I watched for a time, waiting for my cue. They performed their roles perfectly, as if made for them. Shakespeare’s bullshit made up version of English had stumped even the most experienced members of their troupe at first, but they had adapted swimmingly, and by the time Prince came on stage I was sold.

“ _Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. We would as willingly give cure as know._ ”

“Dad, that’s you!” Morgan whispered, bursting with excitement.

“I know!” I hissed back.

I took one last deep breath, glad that the foundation was hiding the nervous blush coloring my face, and stepped out on stage.

I moved languidly, sluggishly, as if the world had lost all meaning to me. Because that’s how Romeo is feeling during this scene. He was lovelorn, scorned and depressed. So I had to be, too. It was time to channel my inner teenager.

The crowd went silent as I stepped on stage, no one even daring to move. I didn’t dare look out past the lights, past the band pit, to the faces of literally every person I knew watching me.

A few more lines were exchanged as I milled pointlessly about the back of the stage, and as Montague and Lady Montague exited, I stepped forward.

“ _Good morrow, cousin,_ ” Benvolio greeted.

I gave a theatrical sigh. “ _Is the day so young?_ ”

“ _But new struck nine_ ,” the actor said.

“ _Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast?_ ” I asked moodily.

“ _It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?_ ” the other man asked helpfully.

“ _Not having that, which, having, makes them short_ ,” I answered cryptically.

“ _In love?_ ” Benvolio guessed.

“ _Out—_ ” I said, my voice catching.

“ _Of love?_ ” he asked.

“ _Out of her favor, where I am in love_ ,” I finally explained.

And so it went. So we performed. I fell back into a role I had never actually played, only been understudy for. I had always played older roles; MacDuff, Claudius, that sort of older man. Hell, I’d even played Puck. This felt odd, especially now I was in my thirties, to be playing a man as young as Romeo. But, judging from the fact I wasn’t being booed off stage, I guess I was doing okay.

I was so keyed up when I stepped off stage I even missed Morgan’s debut as Juliet. She’d be breaking a lot of hearts tonight, that girl. She’d looked stunning all done up in costume and makeup, and I felt an explosion of pride at what a beautiful young woman she was becoming.

The play continued on, until finally it came the scene where Morgan and I were on stage together, during Capulet’s party. Capulet and Tybalt just had their little argument scene about letting Romeo stay, and I slowly sashayed my way up to Morgan across the stage, an eager, boyish grin on my face.

“ _If I profane with my unworthiest hand,_ ” I said in my best come hither voice. “ _This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._ ”

“ _Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,_ ” Morgan laughed, drawing back ever-so-slightly from me. “ _Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._ ”

I stepped forward again, grinning down.

“ _Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_ ” I asked playfully.

“ _Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer,_ ” Morgan rebuffed.

She stepped away from me, and I reached out to grasp her hand, before I gently pulled her back to me. A small blush spread across Morgan’s cheeks, enhanced by the lighting and the masterful application of her makeup.

“ _O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair,_ ” I intoned.

“ _Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake,_ ” Morgan said, smiling shyly.

“ _Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take,_ ” I said, leaning down again.

Morgan turned up to face me, eyes half lidded as I closed in.

And we both froze, the same thought currently passing between us.

OH FUCK, WE’RE RELATED.

After a moment of hesitation Morgan didn’t pull away, nor did she break character. So, I decided ‘fuck it’ and played the role, performing the scene as it was intended.

And by that, I mean Morgan and I kissed.

My time-travelling daughter and I shared a brief, tender kiss under the spotlights, the entire crowd losing their minds and cheering for the two young lovers in the story.

Morgan, hopefully just playing the part, moved her body against me as we kissed, and wary of blocking the action I turned us a little, pulling her flush against me in the process.

When we finally separated we locked gazes, Morgan’s eyes sparkling as she grinned up at me, a much more pronounced blush now on her features as we separated.

“ _Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged,_ ” I said huskily.

“ _Then have my lips the sin that they have took?_ ” Morgan asked, somewhat amorously.

 _Doing it for the play, doing it for the play, opening night has to be perfect, it’s part of the play…_ I desperately thought.

“ _Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again,_ ” I laughed, pulling her close again as the crowd roared their approval.

And Morgan, much to my utter stupefaction, amped things up a notch. If the first kiss was tentative and experimental, this one was a kiss of lust and desire. Much as Romeo and Juliet would no doubt have shared. My senses were overcome as she slipped her tongue into my mouth and I grasped her tight, the roar of the crowd falling away as I simply focused on the play.

Not the kiss.

Not Morgan mewling into my mouth as we passionately embraced.

I focused on the play.

Not the way Morgan dug her nails into my back, just hard enough to be pleasurable.

We were acting.

Not making out on stage.

After a moment that seemed to last an eternity we finally separated, gasping for air. Morgan grinned up at me shyly, fluttering heavy lashes.

“ _You kiss by the book,_ ” she said.

As the scene progressed I found myself in a sort of fugue state, performing the part as well as I could as I kept reminding myself ‘it’s just for the play’.

Then, once the scene was complete the curtains finally came down on the first act. There was a very brief intermission as the band began to play to fill space and stagehands rushed to change the set and prop pieces from the party to the garden scene, complete with a balcony for Romeo to climb up. This gave us a few moments to catch our breath, and the first thing I did was move for the pile of my clothes I’d left in the corner when I’d changed into this costume. I dug around for only a few moments, pulling out the bottle of whiskey I’d stashed in my jacket (I knew tonight would be stressful, I figured I’d need it sooner or later) and took a very long drink from it.

“Dad! What! The! Fuck!?” Morgan screeched, flying across the backstage area.

I had enough time to spin as Morgan advanced on me, opening my mouth to protest, and then she was there, hiking her dress to kick at my leg and dropping me to my knees, where she wrapped her hands around my throat.

“What! Is! Wrong! With! You!?” She shrieked, strangling me.

“We… were ac-act-ing!” I croaked, struggling against her iron grip. “Ack! Yo-guh-you… kissed…m-me! Ghk!”

“You set the tone!” Morgan cried, her voice shrill. “I went with it!”

To my relief, Morgan’s hands were tugged from my neck by a practically glowing Olivia.

“That was incredible!” the dancer gushed, holding both of Morgan’s trembling hands in her own. “You two are amazing onstage! Such chemistry! Such passion! Gods, I swooned! I haven’t swooned like that for a play since I was a girl!”

“We’re related!” Morgan defended, her voice still shrill.

“Which is why the two of you have such great chemistry!” Olivia chided, before turning to me. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“Dropped my whiskey,” I croaked, holding up the half-empty bottle.

Morgan snatched it from my hand, upending the bottle and drinking the rest before Olivia and I could get a word in edgewise.

“Well. Okay,” I said slowly.

Morgan tossed the empty bottle back to me with a glare.

“I cannot wait to watch you die,” she said dangerously.

“You mean in the play, right?” I asked, terrified.

“Oh, I know!” Olivia laughed. “He’s been doing such an amazing job I just bet he’ll give us a spectacular death!”

“You mean in the play, right? Right?” I repeated, eyes widening.

“One minute, people!” one of the stagehands shouted.

Morgan huffed and turned away, doing a very convincing impersonation of Severa as she stomped away to take her position in the little tower prop we’d had made. Olivia chuckled, reaching down to help me up.

“I’m dead,” I groaned, massaging my neck.

“She’s just being shy,” Olivia chuckled. “You two really are amazing out there.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, the audience awaits.”

Olivia blushed, reaching up on her tip-toes and blindsided me by planting a gentle kiss on my lips.

“It’s a l-little late but… that was for luck,” she said, pulling back. “Now… go knock ‘em dead!”

I grinned, feeling a little better.

“You bet your perfectly-toned ass I will,” I laughed.

Olivia giggled, swatting me on the arm as I turned away. I made my way back to the stage.

The audience awaited.

* * *

Later that evening, after the thunderous applause at the end of the show and the standing ovation for the actors, dancers and everyone else who had performed throughout the night, I slipped away from the after-party for the cast, crew and certain VIPs at my mansion.

It was fun, and the celebratory mood was intoxicating after the rush of being on stage again. But I just wanted a place to quietly come down from the adrenaline high. My hands were still shaking, hours later. The night air was cool on my skin as I slowly walked, basking in the moonlight and grinning up at the stars as I unconsciously made my way back to the theatre.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone as I walked.

“My, but that was inspiring,” Inigo laughed, ambling alongside me. “I think I’ll have to use some of those lines. What was that one about roses?”

“ _What’s in a name? A rose by any name would smell as sweet,_ ” I supplied.

“Right, right,” Inigo nodded. “Brilliant!”

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the grin on my face. Admittedly, Inigo wasn’t a bad guy. He was just difficult to be around when he went into ‘horndog’ mode. Although, at present I was in such a good mood I could live with it.

“You pick up using Shakespeare lines, you let me know,” I laughed.

We walked along for a while, just shooting the shit and chilling out. The cool night air did wonders to help bring me back down, and the four ales I’d had were starting to cycle through now, so I was feeling pretty good. Once we began to cross the gardens out front of the theatre Inigo went momentarily quiet.

“So why are we heading back to the theatre, anyway?” he asked.

“I just want to bask while it’s still mine,” I shrugged.

We went inside, passing a few staff members doing a little last-minute cleaning.

“What do you mean?” Inigo asked, furrowing his brow curiously. “Are you giving it to Exalt Chrom or something?”

“No, I’m giving it to-” I started.

“Inigo! Ben!”

I glanced up to the stage, my words cut short by Olivia’s shout. She waved merrily from the edge of the stage, smiling brightly in the dim light of the lantern she’d set up on top of one of the piles of props.

“Hey, Pinkie,” I greeted.

“Hi mom!” Inigo called. “I’ll catch up with you later! I’m heading back to the ladies at the party!”

Inigo spun, sparing me a wink before he disappeared back into the stands. Olivia made an adorable little sound of disappointment as Inigo left, her frown turning back into a radiant smile as I clambered up on stage. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, and I was definitely feeling it after all the excitement of the play.

Olivia laughed, bouncing over to me and throwing her arms around my neck in a big hug. Her good mood infectious, I picked her up and we spun a few times.

“Tonight was amazing!” she laughed when I put her back down. “You were amazing!” 

“No, you were amazing,” I chuckled. “I was adequate. And I look like a kid without the beard.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Olivia said. “You performed incredibly as a stand-in with literally no practice! And you look good!”

“I did kind of write the thing,” I pointed out.

Olivia smiled up at me again, and all of a sudden I was very aware of how she was still in my arms. We both had yet to clean up after the night’s show, and Olivia still had a thin sheen of glitter across her exposed flesh, her musky scent intoxicating at such close proximity. Which made me feel bad, because I no doubt stank to high heaven at present. Olivia seemed to finally notice we were still holding each other, too, pulling away and laughing awkwardly. I suddenly felt cold without her pressed against me.

“So, what’re you doing here instead of the party?” I asked, trying to dispel the awkward mood.

Olivia grinned almost girlishly as she threw out her arms and did a slow circle, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

“I just wanted to soak it in,” she said, turning back to me. “One day, I’ll have something like this, too. I just… can’t wait.”

I smirked, crossing my arms and leaning back against the prop tower Morgan had cried ‘Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ from earlier that night. 

“What about someday real soon?” I asked. “Like, say… tomorrow?”

The pink-haired dancer scoffed, brushing one long bubblegum strand away from her face as she smiled sadly at me.

“I’m afraid I could save for a lifetime and not have enough to own a theatre this extravagant,” she admitted sadly. “Never mind tomorrow.”

“And if, say, some bored Duke were to decide it was too much work to keep a theatre this size organized and running smoothly and wanted to get rid of it…” I said, trailing off with another grin.

Olivia gaped for a moment, freezing up. She brought her hands together in front of her chest, her fingers fidgeting with each other in the old nervous tic I rarely saw anymore.

“Ben, if this is a joke… it’s… the cruelest thing…” she said, her voice a low whisper. “You know this is my dream…”

“Well, I do so love making dreams come true,” I laughed.

I bounced off the tower, taking a few steps across the stage towards Olivia. When I stopped in front of her, she winced, looking up at me with big, wide eyes. I grinned, reaching into my pocket and producing a ring of keys before dangling them between us.

“I haven’t got the deed on me, but hopefully this is symbolic enough,” I said. “It’s yours. All of it. Always was.”

“Ben… I…” Olivia hesitated.

“Take them,” I said.

“I can’t…” she whispered. “I didn’t… didn’t earn it…”

“You made all this possible,” I told her gently. “I wouldn’t have even known where to start. I only did this because I had you at my back to keep me going, Olivia. You’ve always been like that. Always been the one that’s supported us, supported me. In the army, hell, even back when we were just Shepherds. Without you… tonight wouldn’t have happened.”

I stopped, a familiar smirk rising to my face again.

“Which also means that I wouldn’t have had to make out with my time-travelling daughter on stage if not for you, so…”

Olivia snorted, clamping her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggles. She looked down, and I jingled the ring of keys hanging off my finger again, making her glance back up at me.

“This is my dream,” she said airily.

“I know,” I told her.

“And you… you did this… all of this… for me?”

“Well, you and me,” I shrugged. “I want Baham to be more than just a logging town and a military base. I want there to be art. I want there to be learning. I want there to be beauty. I want you to help me do that. Consider this a bribe, if it helps.”

Olivia sniffled, half-laughing and half-sobbing as I jingled the keys again.

“Take them,” I whispered. “I never intended to keep this place.”

“You did this for me,” she whispered, tearing up.

“’Course I did,” I smiled.

Slowly, tentatively, Olivia reached out and took the keys from my hand. She held them in her palm, as if weighing them, looking at the keys as if they were made of glass and would shatter if she were too hasty, before holding them tightly against her chest and looking down at the stage.

“Is… is this really okay?” she asked.

“I’m kinda the Duke,” I laughed, reaching out to cup the side of her face. “What I say goes. So yes. It’s okay.”

Olivia shuddered under my touch, drifting a little closer. I stepped in, gently tilting her face up.

“Thank you,” she breathed, tears caught in her lashes.

She covered the last of the space in a flash, throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around me to pull my lips down to hers. I pulled her in with one hand around her waist, my other moving back to run through her hair before cradling the back of her head as I deepened the kiss. Olivia gave a small gasp, pressing herself against me as our tongues met, the dancer’s grace spreading, apparently, even to her tongue’s rhythmic movements against my own. The dancer slid against me, our bodies meshing and beginning to grind together as we rocked back and forth a little, Olivia wrapping one leg around the back of mine to hold herself tighter against me as we moved. She was intoxicating in my arms, her scent, her feel, her taste, pressed up against me like this, and soon our kiss reached a fever pitch…

And Olivia pulled away.

“Wait,” she gasped, stepping back. “Wait… stop.”

“Right,” I sighed, internally screaming at myself. “That wasn’t fair… sorry…”

“Wh-what?” Olivia squeaked.

“I don’t want you to think I’m just giving you the theatre to get into your pants,” I said. “I really care about you, Olivia, and I shouldn’t have… sorry. Just… sorry.”

“Sorry for giving me the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten?” Olivia laughed, smiling sadly. “Or for… th-the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life?”

“Woman, don’t tease me,” I growled, frowning as I turned away. “You’re sending really mixed signals right now, and that’s not cool.”

“I know, I’m sorry!” Olivia said quickly. “I don’t think you’re just giving me the theatre to… I… I know you really care about me. And I really care about you too, but… but Inigo….”

“What?” I asked, turning back to her. “What about him? Did he say something about the future?”

Olivia shook her head, long pink hair flying about with the motion.

“N-no… but…” she said, bunching in on herself again. “I… want him to be born. I owe it to him, after everything he went through to s-save the world… with us. So… I… until I find out wh-who his f-father is…”

I gave a long, deflating sigh as I turned away again. It hurt to even look at her right now.

“Don’t worry,” I said, shaking my head. “I get it.”

“Y-you do?” Olivia asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t do anything to risk not having Morgan,” I said, running a hand over the top of my head. “So yeah. I get it.”

We looked at each other a moment, sad, terrible heartbreaking understanding passing between us as-

“WILL YOU TWO PLEASE JUST FUCK ALREADY!?”

We both jumped a foot into the air as the shout echoed around the empty theatre, followed by a second desperate voice.

“Morgan are you out of your fucking mind!?”

“No! No, I’m so sick of seeing them dance around each other!”

“Morgan, stop it, we swore we wouldn’t interfere!”

“Fuck! That! Do you know how much I’ve spent on hair dye over the years!? No, this ends today!”

“Dammit, Morgan! Stop! Stoppit!”

“Fucking let me go or I’ll-”

There was a strangled yelp and Inigo went crashing over the railing above the seating area. Fortunately, he didn’t have far to fall as the nearest seats were only about two or three feet lower, but he landed heavily and Olivia and I both involuntarily winced in sympathy.

Then Morgan appeared at the top of the aisle, stomping down the stairs with a look of frustrated rage on her pretty face. Inigo righted himself and hurried to follow, arriving at the stage at almost the exact same time she did, brushing his hair back from his face into its usual style.

“You two were doing so well,” Morgan seethed. “And then you had to go and fucking ruin it.”

“Actually, I’d say it’s you killing the mood right now,” Inigo said.

Morgan punched him in the shoulder without even looking.

“Shut. Up,” she growled, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.

“You!” she snapped, facing Olivia. “He may as well have just proposed! We can all see how into each other you two are! For fuck’s sake, you even retired to the same city! Mom, I love you to bits, but you need to sack up!”

“And you!” she snapped, rounding on me. “I’ve seen you go from zero to balls-deep in half an hour! Will you please just do the deed!? Please!? Just! Fuck! Already!”

“Morgan, gods!” Inigo wailed, covering his ears. “These are our parents! I don’t need to think about them… ugh… gross…”

“You are not helping!” Morgan shouted, rounding on Inigo again.

Inigo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he placed both hands on Morgan’s shoulders, giving her a wide smile.

“Morgan, I love you, but you need to shut the fuck up now,” Inigo said sweetly.

Morgan opened her mouth to continue, but Inigo spun her around, wrapping one arm around her middle to pin her arms and clapping the other hand over her mouth. Her muffled screams didn’t quite echo, but we all got the hint that she was displeased. Inigo grinned bashfully up at us.

“Sorry, wasn’t quite how I wanted you two to find out, but you know what Morgan’s like,” he chuckled. “I’ll get rid of her, try and get her drunk at the party so she passes out and stops shouting. You two look like you have a lot to talk about. Mom. Dad. I’ll see you later.”

Inigo then proceeded to drag a struggling Morgan from the theatre like a fucking pro, like he’d done this thing a million times. She struggled and screamed around his hand the whole time, and judging from the cursing she managed to bite him at one point, but in only a few minutes Olivia and I were left alone in the theatre again, watching where the two time-travelers had been with matching dumbfounded looks on our faces.

We turned, our eyes meeting… and we both simultaneously burst into laughter.

We laughed for what had to be ten minutes straight, until we were both doubled over and gasping for breath. I gave a little sigh, straightening and wiping the tears from the corner of my eye as I shook my head.

“That’s girl’s gonna be the death of me,” I chuckled. “So… uh…”

That was as far as I got before Olivia was on me again. Only this time, I wasn’t expecting her, and as our lips met, I toppled backwards, landing flat on my back as we kissed again.

“I guess… this means we’re… getting married now?” I asked between kisses.

Olivia pulled back, giving me an impish little smile that damn-near stopped my heart.

“You bet your perfectly-toned ass it does,” she whispered in my ear. "But you're definitely growing your beard back." 

I grinned up at her. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

* * *

I let out a satisfied breath, rising up from where I’d been crouching and wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. Another year, another summer in Baham, another chance to clean and repair the roof to the Royal Baham Theatre. It had been almost three years now since that first opening night, that perfect, golden evening where…

“Daddy! We’re hungry!”

I sighed, letting my shoulders droop as the maintenance crew positioned around me chuckled.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?” I muttered to myself, scooting towards the edge of the roof.

I glanced down, Noire glaring up at me with her fists on her hips. She was older now, almost too old for me to carry, standing brazenly with feet spread wide as she called to me. Behind her Elle sighed, my poor maid as put-upon as ever.

Only now…

“Noire, be nice, your daddy’s almost done,” Olivia gently scolded. “We’ll go get some lunch after that.”

“Sorry, mama Olivia,” Noire said in a suitably chastised tone.

Olivia just smirked, seeing right through the act, and bent down to plant a kiss on the top of the girl’s head. “Just be patient, okay sweetie?”

“No, I’m basically done up here,” I called down, before turning back to the maintenance guys. “You guys, uh…”

“We’re fine, milord,” one of them laughed. “Go ahead. We can handle the rest.”

I nodded, smiling as I slid down the ladder to the ground. As soon as my feet hit the cobblestone path a little grey blur shot towards my legs, Inigo wrapping his arms around one leg as he smiled up at me.

“Up!” my son cried joyously.

“Alright, kiddo,” I laughed, bending to lift him into my arms.

He laughed and squealed as I lifted him high, before settling into my arms against my shoulder.

Olivia bounced forward, a bundle containing newborn-Morgan held closely to her chest, and leaned over the two kids to give me a quick peck on the lips. She had begun to dress more conservatively once Inigo had been born, wearing a long cream skirt and a stylish white blouse that did nothing to hide her dancer’s physique.

“Come on,” she said with a smile. “Tharja’s supposed to meet us at the mansion for lunch. You don’t want to keep her waiting.”

I scoffed, taking little Noire’s hand with my free hand and walking side by side with my family back towards our home.

“Why do you think I left Su’ko at the mansion?” I asked under my breath.

Olivia just laughed, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD. I AM GOING. TO GO. TO HELL. FOR THAT SCENE.  
> Why Romeo and Juliet? Just for that one scene. I’m also a huge fan of The Bard, and his tragedies have long been a huge influence in my own work. It was nice to make as many quotes and references as I could in one story, though.  
> Follow me on twitter! -metalloverCAB  
> Please consider supporting me on Patreon! For just five bucks a month you get early access to chapters and two chapters of an exclusive Self Insert short (complete with original artwork in every chapter)! Ten bucks gets you all that and access to the audiobook/podification of whatever story I’m doing at the time!  
> There’s a Discord channel you can join to chat, too! It’s pretty… uh… well, chaotic sometimes, but it’s hella fun.  
> And don’t forget the Invisible Ties Audio Drama! I’m the voice of Robin, check us out on YouTube!  
> Check it all out, links are all on my bio page!


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